A Darker Constellation
by LyraBlack0714
Summary: Sequel to "The Brightest Star". After a year of magic, heartbreak, new friendships, and the discovery of her father, Lyra begins her second year at Hogwarts. When students are attacked by the Heir of Slytherin, will Lyra be blamed? Or will she become a target? Third year included.
1. Chapter 1

Lyra Black set her trunk down, and looked around the room. It was exactly as it was when she had last seen it. Every picture, every book, every decoration had been left untouched. Lyra briefly wondered if Mrs. Winters had left it as a sort of shrine. She shivered.

Lyra briefly considered asking to switch rooms. Everything about this one reminded her of Brianna. Then again, maybe she needed to confront the memories of Brianna, and try to let go of the grief that had been haunting her for the past six months.

"Lyra?"

She turned to see Brandon standing uncertainly in the doorway. "You're back," he stated.

"Hi Brandon," she said. "How are you?" she asked him gently.

"How am I? You want to know how I am?" Brandon looked at her furiously. "After a year of ignoring me, and not being here when I needed you most?!"

"I-I'm sorry-"

"You and Bri were like family! Then you disappeared to some school, and she d-died, and I was left all alone-"

Suddenly, a shattering sound came from behind Lyra. She whipped around and, sure enough, a vase that contained a dried up flower that hadn't been watered in months was laying in pieces on the ground.

"What was that?" Brandon asked shakily. Lyra bent down and cleaned up the broken vase. It was obviously magic, but she didn't think it was her. But that meant-

"Brandon, is this the first time something...strange...has happened around you?" she asked him carefully.

"I-" he looked thoughtful, "maybe, I don't know..."

Lyra decided to let it rest, but she was going to keep her eyes out for any other potential signs of magic in Brandon.

"Look Brandon, I really wanted to see you, believe me, but I wasn't allowed to leave school, and...I had a really hard time with Bri's d-death, and...I just _couldn't_-"

"It's okay, Lyra," Brandon said, looking a little ashamed. "I'm not really mad at you, I just-I just miss her so much, and I needed you..."

"I know," she said. "It's hard...but we just have to believe that it will get easier." Lyra beckoned Brandon over. He looked close to tears, but was trying to hide it well. She held him in a long hug, whispering soothing words in his ear. He let out a few sobs, and she held him closer.

* * *

Being back at the orphanage was strange for Lyra. Lyra had always spent most of her time with Brianna and Brandon. Now Bri was gone, and Brandon had made new friends during Lyra's absence. He still talked to her, and they played games occasionally, but it was obvious that things had changed between them.

As a result, Lyra spent most of her time on her own. She finished all her summer assignments within her first week at the orphanage. Now she was keeping herself busy reading extra material on Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense while writing back and forth with Ron and Hermione. Strangely, Lyra hadn't received any letters from Harry. She was trying not to think the worst-that he no longer wanted to be friends with her because of a particular revelation they had made the previous year.

It was hard to believe that only a few weeks ago, Lyra met her father - and it wasn't the joyous reunion she had always pictured when she was younger. Her father was the notorious dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, who terrorized Great Britain for decades until he was stopped by Harry who was, ironically, Lyra's best friend. Well, she _hoped_ that he still wanted to be her friend.

It was now three weeks into the summer, and Lyra had not yet received a single letter from him. Ron and Hermione indicated in their letters that they hadn't heard from Harry either. The thought worried her, but Lyra decided that there was not much she could do besides going to Harry's house to investigate herself. She decided to save that as a last resort.

To distract herself, Lyra decided to take a trip. About a week ago, Lyra discovered that Mrs. Winters didn't care if she disappeared for a few hours, as long as she was present for dinner every night. So Lyra went outside, and found a side street near the orphanage with virtually no traffic. She held out her wand, and summoned the Knight Bus.

The giant purple triple-decker bus popped into existence and came to a screeching stop where Lyra stood.

"'ello, Lyra!" The conductor greeted her as he helped her up onto the bus.

Lyra had gone to Diagon Alley almost every day for the past week, and she quickly became friends with the friendly conductor, Stan Shunpike.

"Hello, Stan," she relied. "Diagon Alley, please." She handed him the necessary payment, and found a seat near the back.

After a while, Stan made his way over to where Lyra was sitting.

"We'll be comin' up to the Alley in 'bout ten minutes," he said. Lyra nodded that she understood. "So 'ow you been?"

Lyra laughed. "Same as yesterday."

"Sorry, we just hadn't had much business, is all," Stan said. "Gets a bit borin' around 'ere."

"It's okay, it's nice to have someone to talk to," Lyra told him.

The rest of the way to Diagon Alley, Stan entertained her with a funny stories from when he went to Hogwarts. She was glad for the company.

The bus arrived at Diagon Alley, and Lyra waved goodbye to Stan as she got off.

Her first stop was always Flourish & Blotts. She had already bought several books on advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. She wanted to be able to impress Cedric when she saw him.

Lyra had already been to Madam Malkin's and the apothecary earlier in the week, and she couldn't get anything else until her booklist arrived. So she started reading one of her new books while enjoying a sundae outside of Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. After a few minutes, a shadow fell over her table.

"I see you've been keeping busy."

Lyra looked up, and smiled when she saw her favorite professor and godfather, Severus Snape.

"Hello, Professor! How did you know I was here?"

Snape took a seat across from her. "I was refilling potion ingredients at the apothecary across the street, and noticed you sitting here. Care to explain why you are here by yourself?"

"Oh-well, uh..."

"Lyra," he said sternly. "Did you run away from the orphanage?"

"No, I did not!" Lyra replied indignantly.

Snape raised his eyebrows. "So whoever runs the orphanage just let a twelve year old go to London by herself?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well, Mrs. Winters may not know I'm in London, per say, but she doesn't really care where I go as long as I'm back in time for dinner..."

Snape looked confused. "So you're saying that this Mrs. Winters lets you go anywhere you please all day without a chaperone?"

"Yes," Lyra explained, "You see, she's never really liked me, don't ask me why, so the less time I spend in her presence, the happier we both are."

Snape didn't seem satisfied by this answer at all.

Lyra decided to change the subject.

"So...do you know when I'll be able to leave the orphanage?"

"Oh right...it's good I ran into you actually, I was just about write to you. The paperwork was approved this morning. If you want, I can take you to collect your belongings now-"

"Really?" Lyra jumped up out her chair. "Yes, come on, let's go!" she said excitedly.

* * *

"You're leaving?" Brandon asked sadly. Lyra had already packed up her things, and had just tracked Brandon down to say goodbye.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Brandon, but I promise I'll write to you. And, you never know, maybe you'll be offered a place at my school next year!"

"I doubt it, I'm not nearly as smart as you...when are you coming back here, Lyra?"

"Brandon...I'm not coming back here. My Godfather is adopting me-"

"You're n-never coming b-back? I'll never see you again, just like Bri-Brianna..."

Lyra pulled him onto her lap, and he cried into her shoulder. "Shh, it's alright. I'm sure I'll see you again someday-"

"But I don't want you to leave!" Brandon cried.

"I have to, Brandon. I don't belong here-"

"Are you ready?" Snape said, appearing in the doorway.

"No!" Brandon wailed. "Please don't leave, Ly!"

"I'm sorry Brandon, but I have to go," she said gently, but firmly.

Brandon looked at her with a hurt expression. He climbed off her lap, and stepped away from her.

"Fine, then. Goodbye Lyra," he said stiffly before running out the door. Lyra hated leaving things this way, but she supposed it was probably for the best that Brandon was angry with her. Maybe it would help him move on and make new friends. The thought made her sad.

Snape walked over to her. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"I'm fine," she replied halfheartedly. "I just need to talk to Mrs. Winters, then I'll be ready to go."

Lyra didn't know why, but for some reason she felt that she needed some kind of explanation from Mrs. Winters. A reason that the woman had acted so cold towards her. Lyra knew it was probably a waste of time to try, but she just had this feeling that she was missing something.

Lyra approached Mrs. Winters office, and knocked. The door swung open, and Mrs. Winters scowled down at her.

"I thought you would be gone by now," she sneered.

Lyra pushed past her into the office.

"I want answers," she stated. "And I will not leave until I get them."

Mrs. Winters narrowed her eyes. "Answers about what, exactly?"

"I'm leaving now, and I want to know why you have always hated me. What have I ever done to you to make you treat me so different from the other orphans?" Lyra demanded.

Mrs. Winters paused for a moment, and sat down behind her desk. Lyra took a seat opposite her. Mrs. Winters sighed.

"It's...a long story," she muttered.

"I have time," Lyra replied cooly.

"Fine then!" Mrs. Winters took a deep breath. "I, myself, grew up in an orphanage in the small town near here, Little Hangleton. It was a horrible, dingy, place. That is why once I left Wool's, I started my own orphanage, so children would have a nicer place to grow up in..."

Lyra wondered how this related to her at all.

"...anyway...At Wool's there was a strange boy. He could do strange things, and the other orphans avoided him. He hung Billy Stubbs's rabbit from the ceiling once, and none of us could fathom how he did it. One day, we took a trip to the nearby beach. Tom Riddle-that was his name-led me and my friend, Dennis Bishop, to this...cave. He did terrible...unspeakable things to us there..."

"Sorry, but what does any of this have to do with me?" Lyra interrupted.

Mrs. Winters seemed to shiver. "Every time I look at you...something reminds me of that boy. I don't know why, and I know it isn't fair to you, but for some reason, whenever I look at you, I see him. I tried, Lyra, I _tried_ to get over it and treat you the same as everyone else, but then I saw the similarities. When you were five, you...you made a cookie float towards you without touching it. When you were six, you and Brandon Owens told me how you _magically_ healed his scraped knee. It was obvious to me that you could do strange things like Riddle could..."

"SO?" Lyra shouted. "I've never hurt _anyone_, how _dare_ you treat me so horribly just because of some kid you knew years ago!"

Lyra jumped up and stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind her. She heard Mrs. Winters call after her, but she didn't want to hear anymore stupid excuses.

Lyra raced back to her room to get her things. She wanted to leave this place as soon as she could. The only good memories she had of here were when she was with Brianna, and now...those only brought pain.

Lyra grabbed her trunk and looked around the room. It was completely bare. Lyra had packed up all of Brianna's belongings to either take with her or leave with Brandon. Lyra took one last look at the room before turning out the lights and closing the door behind her for the final time.


	2. Chapter 2

A small pop was heard in the dingy neighborhood of Spinner's End. Lyra looked around the neighborhood nervously. It had somewhat of a foreboding feel to it.

Professor Snape quickly walked towards a small, dirty-looking house at the end of the cul-de-sac. She followed slowly.

"It's not much," he said quietly, opening the front door.

Lyra stepped in hesitantly, and gasped in surprise.

"Not much?" she asked incredulously.

The foyer itself looked to be twice as big as the house looked on the outside. Every surface was clean and shiny. A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling.

"What-How...but it looks so small from the outside!" she spluttered.

Snape laughed. "It's called magic, Lyra."

Lyra rolled her eyes.

"Come on, I'll show you the rest of the house," Snape said. There were a lot of big windows, and the rooms were decorated with elegant, expensive-looking furniture.

Lyra was astounded. She pictured Snape's house resembling the Hogwarts dungeons, but this place was the exact opposite. It was so _bright_.

Snape finished the tour by showing her to her bedroom. It was spacious, and painted scarlet and gold. Gryffindor colors.

"Thank you," she told Professor Snape earnestly. "I love it."

He gave her one of his rare smiles. "I'm glad you like it. Why don't you unpack your things, and let your owl out. Dinner will be at six," he said promptly before leaving.

Lyra wrote a short note to Ron, asking whether he had heard from Harry yet. She attached the note to Lucinda, and watched her owl fly out of sight. Yesterday was Harry's birthday. She still hadn't heard a word from him. Surely if he didn't want to be friends anymore, he would have at least told her by now. Lyra sighed, and began unpacking her things.

* * *

The next morning, Lyra decided that she would tell Snape her concerns about Harry. She knew they hated each other, but Snape couldn't just do _nothing_.

When Lyra got downstairs, Professor Snape was reading the _Daily Prophet_ at the table. She poured herself a bowl of cereal, and sat down beside him at the kitchen table. She thought it was best she didn't disturb him while he read the newspaper. Mrs. Winters would always snap at the orphans if they dared make a noise while she was reading the morning paper.

Suddenly, Snape slammed the paper down on the table. "I swear, the Ministry is getting dumber every day," he said irritably. "Now Fudge is proposing more raids be executed. As if that will reduce the amount of illegal contraband...no wonder the likes of Lucius Malfoy can manipulate the system..."

"Um, Professor?"

Snape paused his rant. "Yes?"

"Um...I just wanted to talk to you about something. You see...well-I'm worried about Harry. I haven't heard from him all summer...something may be wrong..."

"Harry Potter?" he sneered.

"Yes. And I know you don't like him, but-"

"What makes you assume something is wrong with Potter?" he interrupted.

"Ron and Hermione haven't heard from him either! Why wouldn't he write any of his friends?"

"Potter lives with his muggle relatives, yes?" Snape asked. Lyra nodded. "Then perhaps they have not allowed him to use his owl to send letters. Don't let it worry you."

"But-"

"Here," Snape cut her off, handing her an envelope of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. "Your Hogwarts letter came this morning."

Lyra tore open the envelope. The letter told her to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross station on September first. There was also a list of the new books she'd need for the coming year.

Second-year students will require:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk

_Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Wanderings with Werewolves_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

"Do you know why I need all these Gilderoy Lockhart books?" Lyra asked when she was finished going through her letter.

Snape grimaced a little. "Strictly speaking, I'm not supposed to say..."

"Please?" Lyra pleaded with a smile.

"Alright...Gilderoy Lockhart is going to be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Really? He must be good if he went on all these adventures!" said Lyra, impressed.

Snape scoffed. "Please. If a single word of it is true, I'd hug Potter."

"Did you just make a joke, Professor?" Lyra asked with a grin.

"I _can_ be funny, you know," Snape replied indignantly.

Lyra smiled and finished her cereal.

"Do you want to go get your books next week?" Snape asked once he had finished reading the _Daily Prophet_.

"Sure! I'll send a letter to Ron and see if we can meet up at Diagon Alley!"

Snape rolled his eyes, but made no comment. Lyra ran upstairs to her room. She was surprised to see that Lucinda had already returned from taking Lyra's letter to Ron last night. She ripped off Ron's reply before Lucinda promptly flew over to her cage and curled up to sleep.

_Lyra,_

_Great news! We rescued Harry from the Dursleys! They had bars on his windows, and were starving him! Mum's not too happy, because we borrowed Dad's flying car to get to Surrey. Anyway, we got a letter from Hermione this morning. We're meeting her in Diagon Alley on Wednesday. Can you come then? Hope the Greasy Git isn't too horrible to you. I suggested to Fred and George that we rescue you as well, but Mum overheard us...See you soon!_

_Ron_

Lyra breathed a sigh of relief. Harry was okay! She ran back downstairs to check with Snape if they could meet them at Diagon Alley on Wednesday. He reluctantly agreed.

* * *

"Just step into the fire and clearly say where you're going. Make sure to keep your elbows tucked in, and your eyes shut."

"I know, I've used floo powder before," Lyra said for the tenth time that morning.

When she had asked how they were getting to Diagon Alley, Snape had refused to ride the Knight Bus. He said that he would never step foot on that 'crazy contraption'. Floo was their only other alternative, but Snape seemed to think Lyra would get herself lost up a chimney no matter how many times she reassured him that she knew what she was doing.

"Don't fidget or you'll fall out the wrong fireplace, but don't panic and get out too early. Wait until you see the Leaky Cauldron," Snape instructed.

Lyra grabbed a pinch of floo powder before he could lecture any more, and confidently stepped into the fire place.

"Diagon Alley!" she said. There was a familiar spinning feeling as Lyra saw glimpses of dozens of fireplaces before she came to a stop in the Leaky Cauldron. She climbed out the fireplace, and brushed the soot off her robes.

Snape appeared moments after her. She didn't see the Weasleys yet, so they grabbed a table, and ordered breakfast. A while after they finished, Fred and George came out of the fireplace, followed by Mr. Weasley. Lyra got up to greet them when a very worried Mrs. Weasley came scrambling out of the fireplace.

"Is he here, Arthur?" she asked, looking around desperately.

"Who, Molly?"

"Harry! He choked on the soot; he could be anywhere!" she replied, panicked.

By now, all the Weasleys had made it through the Floo.

Ron went over to Lyra. "Lyra! It's good to see you!"

"Good to see you too! I hope Harry's alright. What happened exactly?" she asked.

"He mispronounced 'Diagon Alley'. I'm sure he'll be okay, probably only went one or two grates too far..."

Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to share the same confidence. "How ever will we explain to his aunt and uncle?" she cried.

* * *

Snape, Lyra, Ron, Mr. Weasley, and the twins had been looking for Harry for a few minutes, Snape grumbling under his breath the whole time, while Ron's sister, Ginny, was with Mrs. Weasley trying to keep her calm. They were nearing Gringotts when Lyra heard what sounded like Hermione shouting "Harry! Harry! Over here!"

Sure enough, Hermione was running down the white steps of Gringotts towards Hagrid and an ash-covered Harry.

They reached Harry just as Hagrid was saying, "Yeh won't have long ter wait."

"Harry," Mr. Weasley panted. "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far. . . ." He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic — she's coming now —"

Lyra ran over to Harry and couldn't help herself. She seized him in a huge hug, and held him tightly. Harry seemed startled at first, but he hugged her back.

After a moment, someone cleared their throat behind them. Lyra blushed and stepped back.

"I was so worried-you didn't reply to my letters-" she said.

Harry grinned. "Sorry about that. A mad house elf was stopping my letters."

Lyra blinked. "Pardon?"

"Long story..."

"So where did you come out of the floo?" Ron asked.

"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly.

"Excellent!" said Fred and George together.

"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously.

"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid.

"What's Knockturn Alley?" Lyra asked.

"A place I better never catch you in," Snape warned.

Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.

"Oh, Harry — oh, my dear — you could have been anywhere —"

Gasping for breath she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping off the soot Hagrid hadn't managed to beat away. Mr. Weasley took Harry's glasses, gave them a tap of his wand, and returned them, good as new.

"Well, gotta be off," said Hagrid, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs. Weasley ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!"). "See yer at Hogwarts!" And he strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked as they climbed the steps of Gringotts. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" asked Mr. Weasley sharply behind them.

"No, he was selling —"

"So he's worried," said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something..."

Lyra caught sight of Snape rolling his eyes. When he saw her watching him, she narrowed her eyes and dramatically flipped her hair over her shoulder before running up beside Hermione.

Mr. Weasley had just caught sight of Hermione's parents. They looked awkward as he questioned them on different aspects of muggle life. Snape steered Lyra over to one of the goblins, and pulled out her key.

"How did you get that?" Lyra asked.

"Dumbledore," Snape simply replied.

They ended up in the same cart as Harry and the Weasleys. Lyra felt absolutely awful when the Weasleys opened their vault. She saw the same expression on Harry's face. They both had vaults full to the brim with gold Galleons. The Weasleys only had one Galleon and a handful of sickles.

They arrived at Harry's vault first. He tried to block their view of his vault, and quickly grabbed a handful of money before returning to the cart looking guilty. Lyra's vault was farther down. She felt bad for using the money in the vault. It was her parents' money, and they were both...well...evil. She swallowed away her misgivings and quickly grabbed a handful of coins.

Back outside on the marble steps, they all separated. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George had spotted their friend from Hogwarts, Lee Jordan. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were going to a secondhand robe shop. Mr. Weasley was insisting on taking the Grangers off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. Snape was heading to the apothecary.

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" she shouted at the twins' retreating backs.

Harry, Lyra, Ron, and Hermione strolled off along the winding, cobbled street. Harry bought them four large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams, which they slurped happily as they wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows. Ron gazed longingly at the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until Hermione dragged them off to buy ink and parchment next door. In a tiny junk shop they found Percy, deeply immersed in a small and deeply boring book called _Prefects Who Gained Power_.

"_A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers_," Ron read aloud off the back cover. "That sounds _fascinating_..."

"Go away," Percy snapped.

An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were not the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

_MAGICAL ME_

today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please, ladies... Don't push, there... mind the books, now..."

Harry, Ron, Lyra, and Hermione squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and Ron and Harry sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

Lyra pulled Hermione to the side. "I'm supposed to keep this to myself, but I want to tell you. Gilderoy Lockhart didn't just write the booklist. Professor Snape told me that he was going to be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher as well."

Hemrione's eyes lit up, and she let out a girly squeal.

"Just don't tell anyone, Hemrione," Lyra said with a grin. Hemrione nodded and they joined the others.

"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a minute..."

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the _Daily Prophet_ —"

"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it. Suddenly Gilderoy Lockhart leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It _can't_ be Harry Potter?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face burned as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over them all.

"I'm going to be sick," Snape muttered, appearing behind Lyra. She grimaced.

"I'm starting to think you were right about Lockhart," she said.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge —"

The crowd applauded again.

"He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Lockhart finally released Harry. He edged over to Ginny, slipping Lockhart's books in her cauldron.

Lyra went over to him, and gave him a sympathetic smile, just as an obnoxious voice rang out: "Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?"

Draco Malfoy strutted over to where they were standing.

"_Famous_ Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Lyra, glaring at Malfoy.

"Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend_!" drawled Malfoy. "And I thought you could sink no lower, _cousin_," he sneered at Lyra.

Lyra opened her mouth to retort, but Ron and Hermione had made it over to where they were standing.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

Ron turned red. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.

"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley."

It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids . . . I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He sneered derisively at Ron and Ginny's robes.

"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," Mr. Weasley said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley-"

"Lyra," came Snape's voice from somewhere behind her. "What are you doing?" he asked as he reached her. He caught sight of Mr. Malfoy, and the confrontation brewing.

Mr. Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Severus, what a..._surprise_ to see you here with this lot," he drawled.

"I'm helping Lyra get her things for school," he replied shortly. "Now if you'll excuse us-"

"Ah, yes of course," Mr. Malfoy shifted his attention to her. "Narcissa and I were so happy when we heard our dear niece was found. It must have been awful for you, dear, ten years living with _muggles. _We wondered why Bella didn't just leave you with us-"

Lyra shivered at the thought.

"I suppose we'll never know," said Snape coldly.

Mr. Malfoy glared and turned back to Mr. Weasley. His pale eyes strayed to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley . . . and I thought your family could sink no lower —"

That seemed to be the final straw for Mr. Weasley. There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please — please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all-

"Break it up, there, gents, break it up —"

Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip, he knocked Lyra over as he swept from the shop.

"Ow," she muttered, pulling herself up off the ground. Her bag of books had been knocked from her hands, and it took a minute to gather them all up.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that — no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter — bad blood, that's what it is — er, no offense to you, Lyra - come on now — let's get outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them from leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury.

"A fine example to set for your children . . . brawling in public . . . what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought —"

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report — said it was all publicity —"

The group was subdued as they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. Lyra said goodbye to her friends before flooing back to Snape's house. He was beside himself with fury, though it thankfully wasn't directed at her. Still, he snapped at her to put her things away, so she decided it was probably best to leave him alone for a while.

She went up to her room and opened her trunk. She set all her robes neatly inside, and organized her quills and potion ingredients. She dumped her bag of books out onto her bed, and something strange caught her eye.

A small leather bound book had fallen out of her bag. Lyra didn't remember buying it, so she started flipping through it. She was perplexed to see that it was empty. When she returned to the first page, she noticed a name written in smudged ink: "T. M. Riddle".

* * *

**Author's Note**: So sorry it took so long to update! I don't have much time to write these days, so I can't say for sure when the next chapter will be posted. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Lyra dropped the book in shock. _T. M. Riddle_. There was no way this was a coincidence. This diary belonged to the same boy Mrs. Winters had been terrified of years ago. But how did it end up in Lyra's bag, and who _was_ this Riddle boy?

Lyra looked through the diary again for any clues, but it only had a date on the cover that told her it was fifty years old. The rest of the book was empty. Something told her that she should go to Snape about this, but it was only a harmless book. She decided she wouldn't bother him about it. Lyra tucked the diary in with the rest of her books, and went to sleep.

* * *

Summer vacation quickly came to an end. Lyra was happy to be going back to Hogwarts, but she had enjoyed her month at Spinner's End. She read through most of her new books, except any of Lockhart's collection. She read one paragraph of _Year with the Yeti_, and gave up. Even in his books, Lockhart sounded like an idiot.

Lyra spent a lot of time helping Professor Snape with various potions. She learned a lot of advanced potion-making techniques, and became closer to Snape in the process. He became less standoff-ish and she saw a more decent side of him.

On September first, Snape had to take Lyra to the station an hour before the train was scheduled to leave. Since teachers had to help prepare the school for when the students arrived, they had to arrive there around ten that morning. Snape looked around at the empty platform before giving Lyra a quick hug goodbye, and a sharp "Behave!"

After he left, Lyra wandered around the platform for a while before climbing aboard the train to reserve a compartment. She chose a carriage near the back of the train, and curled up on the seat.

After what seemed like only a minute, Lyra was shaken awake by a frantic Hermione.

Lyra sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find Harry or Ron anywhere! I didn't want to wake you up, but I'm getting so worried! I've looked in every single carriage, but they aren't here!"

"Wait-why wouldn't they be on the train? Did you see any of the other Weasleys?"

"Yes, I saw Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny, but they don't know where Harry and Ron are. They said they got here minutes before the train was leaving, and didn't see what happened to them in all the confusion..."

Lyra sighed. "Why don't you sit and try to calm down. If Harry and Ron missed the train, then I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are working something out. Harry and Ron wouldn't do anything _stupid_..."

* * *

The train ride passed slowly as a tense silence came over Lyra and Hermione's compartment. Hermione alternated between pacing the length of the compartment and fidgeting in her seat.

"Will you stop that!" Lyra finally snapped.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm the only one worried about Harry and Ron-"

"I'm worried too, Hermione, but your endless pacing is not helping anything!" Lyra retorted.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You know, you're starting to sound like Snape."

Lyra opened her mouth, then closed it again. She got up, and stormed out the compartment, slamming the compartment door behind her.

Lyra knew it was childish, but Hermione had no right to take out her stress on Lyra.

She wandered through the train, looking for anyone she knew, when-

"Something wrong, cousin?" she heard a familiar drawl behind her. Great. Just what she needed. She just had to run in to_ Draco Malfoy_ of all people.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she said before walking away. He caught up to her, and spun her around.

"Don't be like that. And _listen_, Lyra. You should be careful who you're friends with, especially this year," he said in a low voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Let's just say that _mudblood_ friend of yours is going to get what she deserves-"

"Are you _threatening_ me?" Lyra demanded.

"No. Not you. Your _friends_, however, will get what's coming to them this year," he said with a malicious sneer.

Lyra wrenched her arm from his grasp.

"Your vague threats don't scare me," Lyra snapped. She pulled out her wand. "And if you insult or threaten my friends again, _cousin_, I'll _curse_ you."

Malfoy looked surprised for a moment. Then he burst out laughing.

"_You_-curse _me_? I bet you couldn't curse a house elf-"

Lyra's rage boiled over. _"Locomotor Mortis!"_

Malfoy's legs snapped together, and he toppled over. He looked flabbergasted, and got out his wand to perform the countercurse, but Lyra cast "_Silencio_" before he had the chance.

"Nice job, Lyra." Lyra spun around, and there was Cedric Diggory looking at her proudly.

"Cedric! It's so good to see you! Did you have a nice summer?"

Cedric shrugged. "It was alright. You?"

"Same."

"So what are you planning to with him?" Cedric asked, gesturing to Malfoy.

Lyra shrugged. "I'll just leave him here, I suppose. Serves the git right."

Malfoy glared furiously at her from where he was sprawled on the ground. She gave him a jaunty little wave, and followed Cedric to his compartment.

* * *

The rest of the train ride was much more enjoyable. Cedric's friends were fun to be around, and they didn't seem to mind that she was a few years younger than them. Soon the lamps came on, and Lyra left Cedric's compartment to put her Hogwarts robes on.

When Lyra returned to her compartment, Hermione apologized for earlier. Lyra gave her a hug. Then Lyra tried to lighten Hermione's mood by telling her what she had done to Malfoy. Hermione seemed impressed, and forgot her worry over Harry and Ron for a moment.

"By the way...do you have any idea what a 'mudblood' or a 'house elf' is?" Lyra asked Hermione.

"No, I've never heard either of those. But I'll-"

"look it up in the library," Lyra finished for her with a grin.

The train finally pulled into Hogsmeade. Lyra heard Hagrid's booming voice yelling "Firs' Years over here!"

"That's right! I forgot we would be going to the school in the horseless carriages this year," Hermione said excitedly.

They pushed through the crowd, and Lyra stopped short at the carriages.

"Um...Hermione? These aren't exactly _horseless_," Lyra said, but she wouldn't know what she would call the creatures pulling the carriages.

There was something reptilian about them. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragon-like, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither-vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still and quiet in the gathering gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister.

"What?" Hermione asked distractedly. "Of course the carriages are horseless, Lyra. What are you talking about?"

"You mean-you don't see them?" she asked, incredulously.

"See what?" Hermione asked, annoyed. "Come on, let's just find a carriage."

Lyra sighed and followed Hermione into a nearby carriage. Apparently, she was seeing things now.

* * *

The feast was as delicious as Lyra remembered. It was hard to eat, though, with Ron and Harry still missing. She kept glancing up to the Head Table to see if they had yet noticed the boys' absence. Nearing the end of the feast, Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall disappeared from the hall with angry looks on their faces.

As Lyra and Hermione were leaving the Great Hall, they started to hear the whispers.

"A flying car-crashed into the Whomping Willow-blimey, surprised they survived-Harry Potter, I heard-I wonder if they'll be expelled!"

Hermione was beside herself. "There's no way. There is _no way _they flew a car to _school_-"

They turned the corner, and there at the Fat Lady's portrait were Ron and Harry. Hermione dashed towards them.

"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors — someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car —"

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assured her.

"You're not telling me you did fly here?" said Hermione.

"Skip the lecture," said Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password."

"It's 'wattlebird,'" said Hermione, "but that's not the point —"

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was packed into the common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione and Lyra to scramble in after them.

"Brilliant!" yelled Lee Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years —"

Percy was making his way over, but Harry spotted him. He nudged Ron in the ribs, and the two fled upstairs. Harry shot Lyra a sheepish grin, and mouthed "later". She rolled her eyes, and dragged Hermione, still scowling, up to their dormitory.

* * *

That night, as Lyra was unpacking, she came across the diary again. She sat on her four-poster and flicked through the blank pages. She pulled a new bottle of ink out of her trunk, dipped her quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.

The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, Lyra loaded up her quill a second time and wrote, "My name is Lyra Black."

The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in her very own ink, came words Lyra had never written.

_"Hello, Lyra Black. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"_

* * *

Lyra got very little sleep that night. She wrote back to Tom, and he turned out to be a great listener. Lyra ended up telling him everything that had happened the previous year. He was sympathetic when she wrote about losing Brianna, and he was understanding when she revealed who her father was. Tom was curious about Voldemort, but didn't say why. He gave her lots of advice on magic, though, and he seemed sincerely interested in her life.

Finally, around midnight, Lavender demanded from across the dormitory that Lyra blow out her candle and go to sleep.

Something was nagging Lyra at the back of her mind. When she had asked Tom about Mrs. Winters, he said she had a habit of spreading rumors and lies about other orphans at Wool's, and that Lyra shouldn't think much about what she said. Lyra supposed Mrs. Winters may have just been jealous that Tom, and later Lyra, could do magic and she could not. Mrs. Winters probably just made up all that nonsense about the cave...

Lyra was happy to have a friend that she could carry around in her pocket. There was no need to tell anyone about the harmless diary.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione was still disapproving of the way the boys had arrived. She had her nose in _Voyages with Vampires_ all through breakfast, and only gave the boys a stiff "Morning".

She scowled at Lyra when she asked Harry to recount their trip in the flying car. Ron enthusiastically joined in to help Harry with the story. It all sounded very exciting, but Lyra didn't think that a flying car would ever be her preferred method of travel.

All of a sudden, screeching was heard around the Great Hall. The mail had arrived.

A big, lumpy package bounced off Neville's head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.

"Errol!" said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.

"Oh, no —" Ron gasped.

"It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.

"It's not that — it's that."

Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to Lyra, but Ron and Neville were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode.

"What's the matter?" said Harry.

"She's — she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and" — he gulped — "it was horrible."

"What's a Howler?" Lyra asked.

But Ron's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.

"Open it," Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes —"

A roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"— STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —"

Mrs. Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.

"— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED! YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked down at the top of Ron's head.

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you —"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Ron.

* * *

The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were working in greenhouse three in Herbology today. Harry had been dragged off by Lockhart at the beginning of the lesson, so Professor Sprout just stood there scowling at the center of the greenhouse for a good ten minutes before Harry came rushing in, looking irritated.

Harry, Ron, Lyra, and Hermione were at a tray together to repot Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look easy, but the mandrakes squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth. One even managed to punch Lyra in the face, which caused Ron to burst out laughing.

By the end of the class, Lyra, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.

Transfiguration wasn't much better than Herbology. Ron's wand malfunctioned, and he ended up squashing the beetle they were meant to be transfiguring into a button. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.

She turned to Lyra and sniffed disapprovingly at her pathetic attempt. Her button was still scuttling. Transfiguration was definitely not one of Lyra's best subjects.

It was after lunch that the day truly turned into a disaster.

The four were sitting in the courtyard; Hermione was immersed in _Voyages with Vampires_ again. A small boy with a huge camera nervously walked up to Harry.

"All right, Harry? I'm — I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think — would it be all right if — can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.

"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead, and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll _move_."

Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's _amazing_ here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you. Maybe your girlfriend" - he glanced at Lyra - "could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"Sign it?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"_Girlfriend_?" Lyra spluttered.

"_Signed photos_? You're giving out _signed photos_, Potter?"

Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as he always was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.

"_Jealous_?" said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout anymore: Half the courtyard was listening in. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.

Lyra stepped forward, and held up her wand threateningly. "Do I need to curse you _again_, Malfoy, in front of everyone this time? I thought you would have learned your lesson on the train."

Malfoy involuntarily took a step back from Lyra. He eyed her wand nervously.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Malfoy, having regained his composure. "You don't want to start any trouble or your mommy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "_If you put another toe out of line _—"

A knot of Slytherin fifth years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house —"

That was it. Lyra brandished her wand. "_Rictusempra_!"

Hermione shut Voyages with Vampires with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos? And why are you on the ground, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy was rolling around in an uncontrollable fit of laughter from Lyra's tickling charm. It was a harmless spell, but Lyra didn't want to risk getting in trouble her first day back, so she quickly did the counter-charm non-verbally from behind Ron so that Lockhart wouldn't see her. Malfoy staggered to his feet, beet red, and stammered out an excuse before scampering off, Crabbe and Goyle lugging behind him.

Lockhart seemed unfazed by Malfoy's behavior, as he flung an arm around Harry's shoulders and thundered jovially, "We meet again, Harry!"

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll _both_ sign it for you."

Colin fumbled for his camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Harry.

Lyra, Ron, and Hermione lagged behind them a few paces.

"That was wicked, Lyra!" Ron said enthusiastically.

Hermione looked disapproving. "You shouldn't have done that. Professor Lockhart could have seen you! You could have gotten a detention!"

Ron and Lyra shared a look and rolled their eyes, which made Hermione huff indignantly before quickening her pace.

* * *

Defense Against the Dark Arts was officially a joke. Lyra sighed as she helped Ron, Harry, and Hermione round up all the '_Freshly Caught Cornish Pixies'_.

"Can you _believe_ him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing —"

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books — look at all those amazing things he's done —"

"He says he's done," Ron muttered.

* * *

Lyra realized that she would have to ask Cedric to keep tutoring her. She wondered if the other three might be interested.

That night, Lyra cornered Cedric to ask whether he was still willing to help her with advanced magic, and if she could bring a couple of friends.

Cedric smiled. "Of course! I'll help anyone who agrees that Lockhart is a complete idiot, and wants to learn _real_ Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Lyra smiled, and went to find Hermione. She figured she could probably find her in the library.

Sure enough, with a stack of books surrounding her, Hermione sat in the library fully immersed in a large, ancient-looking tome.

Hermione looked up when she heard Lyra approaching. "Hello, Lyra," she said wearily.

"Hermione, it's the first day of classes. You can't have _that_ much homework," Lyra said, exasperated.

"I'm not doing homework! I'm looking up what a house elf and a mudblood is," she stated. "I only found one reference to a mudblood. I think it's a foul name for a witch or wizard with muggle parents. Someone like me..." Hermione trailed off.

"That's-that's just-Hermione, you're the best in our year! Don't let anyone tell you you're inferior, because your parents are muggles. That's ridiculous!"

Hermione seemed to brighten, and showed Lyra the book she was reading on house elves.

"Apparently, they've been enslaved by wizards for centuries. No wages, poor working conditions, and no punishment for wizards that mistreat them," Hermione said.

"So-what you're saying is...a whole _species_ of creatures are unjustly enslaved, and _no one's_ _doing_ _anything_ about it! This...this is just _wrong_," Lyra said.

"I know," Hermione agreed. She looked thoughtful. "What if we set up a club to stop house elf abuse? We could make badges, and stage protests to advocate house elf rights!"

Lyra thought about it. It would be hard to get support, but they couldn't just do _nothing_ about the house elves. A club would be a good way to start campaigning.

Lyra smiled. "We'll need a name. How about the _'Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare'_?"

"That's perfect!" Hermione said, clapping her hands together.

* * *

Lyra was in charge of drawing up S.P.E.W.'s manifesto, while Hermione volunteered to make the badges. They would both try to recruit members during the following week, and meet in the library next Monday for the first official S.P.E.W. meeting.

Once they returned to the common room, Lyra remembered about asking the others if they were interested in learning Defense Against the Dark Arts from Cedric.

"Lockhart's a great teacher, Lyra!" Hermione replied. "Why would we need any extra help? Besides, I think our actual homework is more important..."

Harry and Ron looked mildly interested, but Harry said he would be too busy with Quidditch and homework.

Indeed, Quidditch would be taking up a lot of their time. That Saturday, Lyra was woken up at the crack of dawn by Angelina Johnson. They met the rest of the team down at the locker rooms where Wood droned on about his new strategies for over an hour. Finally, they trudged out onto the field.

"Aren't you finished yet?" called Ron incredulously from the stands.

"Haven't even started," said Harry. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

After the team had been flying around for a few minutes, Katie Bell pointed towards the entrance to the pitch.

"Look! It's the Slytherins!"

Lyra followed Angelina, Alicia, and Katie who took off to where Wood was yelling at the Slytherin captain, Flint.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. _'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.' "_

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"_You?_" Lyra gasped.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives — "sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's _he_ doing here?"

He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Ron gaped, openmouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

There was an instant uproar. Lyra lunged at Malfoy at the same time as the Weasley twins, but one of the Slytherin Beaters picked her up and threw her at the ground. Her head hit the ground hard.

She saw stars, and heard a loud bang before everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

"I want Montague _expelled_ for this-"

"Now, now, Severus, you heard Poppy. She's going to be perfectly fine-"

Lyra groaned heavily as a wave of pain hit her. She tried to lift her head. It hurt too much, and she slumped back down on the pillow.

"Don't try to move just yet, dear," Madam Pomfrey instructed. Lyra slowly opened her eyes, and saw a crowd of people around her. Professor Dumbledore and Snape, as well as the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, were all packed around Lyra's bed. She didn't see Hermione or Ron.

"What 'appened?" she slurred groggily.

"One of the Slytherins picked you right off the ground and threw you down," Harry explained gently. "You hit your head really hard and blacked out. Then Ron tried to retaliate, but his wand malfunctioned and, well, he ended up cursing himself. He's okay. Hermione's with him at Hagrid's."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey tried to force a disgusting potion down Lyra's throat.

"This girl needs rest," Madam Pomfrey told everyone strictly.

The Quidditch team shuffled out of the infirmary, Wood muttering about "intentional sabotage", and only Harry and the Professors remained. Madam Pomfrey tried to shoo Harry out with the others, but Lyra grabbed his hand. Madam Pomfrey eventually gave up, and returned to her office after thoroughly checking Lyra over.

"Well," said Dumbledore, "since it seems Miss Black will make a full recovery, my presence is no longer required. I hope you feel better soon, Lyra," he said before strolling from the Hospital Wing, humming to himself.

Harry took a seat next to Lyra, and held her hand. Professor Snape scowled at him.

"If you are alright, Lyra, I need to go see to Montague's punishment..." Snape muttered before exiting the Hospital Wing.

"Lyra, what was it that Malfoy called Hermione?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence.

"A Mudblood. It's a really foul name for someone with muggle parents. Hermione and I looked it up after Malfoy called her that name on the train. Apparently wizards with magical parents, "purebloods", have always been prejudice against muggle-borns. This blood purity nonsense was the basis of the war my father started. He wanted to exterminate muggle-borns," Lyra explained.

"That's horrible," Harry said, shocked.

Pain shot through Lyra's scalp, and she gasped.

"Why don't you close your eyes, and try to sleep it off," Harry told her gently. "The potion should begin to help soon. I'll stay with you if you want."

"Thank you, Harry," she said gratefully. Lyra laid her head down and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Harry stayed with Lyra until that evening when Professor McGonagall came in to inform him he had detention with Lockhart. Harry groaned, and begged McGonagall to change his detention, but it was futile. So at a quarter to eight, Harry left with a glum look.

Madam Pomfrey fussed over Lyra for another hour before finally letting her leave. Lyra trudged back to her dormitory. She didn't see Hermione, and guessed she might be in the library.

Lyra felt the urge to talk to Tom about what all had happened that day. She opened up the diary, and began writing.

_"Tom, the most horrible thing happened today. One of the Slytherins called my best friend a "mudblood". I lost my temper, and tried to lunge at him, but one of the Beaters threw me to the ground. I had to spend the whole day in the Hospital Wing."_

Tom quickly replied.

_"Dear Lyra, I am so sorry that has happened to you, but you shouldn't let anyone throw you around. You must show them you are better than them."_

_"But how, Tom?"_ Lyra wrote back.

She eagerly waited for Tom's reply. It took longer than usual, but he eventually replied with a question.

_"Do you trust me, Lyra?"_

She wasted no time with her hurried response.

"_Yes_."

* * *

Lyra woke up confused. Where was she?

Lyra looked around, and saw that she was in a bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror looked pale and frightened. She had no recollection of how she got here. Lyra quickly fled from the bathroom, and didn't stop running until she got to the portrait hole.

Lyra took a long shower, and tried to convince herself that she had just hit her head harder than she thought and ended up wandering to that bathroom.

* * *

Over the coming weeks, Lyra was kept busy with piles of homework and regular Quidditch practice, but that didn't keep her from talking to Tom at least once a day. He continued to offer her valuable advice, and she quickly found herself reliant on their conversations. She was still shaken up over the head injury and the bathroom incident, and her friends commented frequently that she was looking pale.

Professor Snape was also concerned about Lyra. He ended up kicking Montague off the Slytherin Quidditch team, and frequently kept Lyra after Potions to "check on her general well-being".

Lyra had just returned from a particularly muddy Quidditch practice when Harry informed them they had been invited to Sir Nicholas's deathday party on Halloween.

"A deathday party?" said Hermione keenly. "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those — it'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" said Ron, who was halfway through his Potions homework and grumpy. "Sounds dead depressing to me..."

Lyra silently agreed with Ron. She curled up on one of the comfy common room couches, and pulled out the diary. She wondered if Tom had ever been to a deathday party.

_"Dear Tom, I've been invited to one of the school ghosts' deathday party on Halloween. Have you ever been to one? Are they any fun?"_

She waited for his reply as a salamander that the Weasley twins had been messing around with whizzed through the air emitting loud bangs and bright sparks.

_"Lyra, I have never been to a deathday party myself, but I have heard they are quite boring. Surely you don't want to spend your Halloween at a gathering of dead people?"_

Percy came stomping over to Fred and George and started bellowing himself hoarse while the salamander continued to emit sparks. Lyra couldn't concentrate with all the commotion, so she quietly escaped to the dormitory.

_"I know it doesn't sound like much fun, but Harry wanted all of us to go with him," she wrote back to Tom._

_"Your other friends could go to the party with him. I had something much more fun in mind for Halloween. I thought you trusted me, Lyra."_

_"I do, Tom! I do!" _Lyra scribbled quickly. _"I trust you!"_

Just then, Hermione walked into the dormitory. Lyra quickly stashed the diary under her bed.

"Lyra, you missed all the fun! Percy just went to tell on Fred and George, but they're planning to ambush him along the way...or something like that..." she trailed off. Hermione looked at Lyra quizzically. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Lyra nodded nervously. "Of course, I'm fine. I just don't think I really want to go to this deathday party. It doesn't sound like much fun," she admitted.

"Well, that's okay. I'm sure Harry will understand," she said.

Later that night, Lyra laid awake, staring at the hangings around her four poster. She felt nervous for some strange reason, and she couldn't fall asleep. She tossed and turned, until finally she got up, grabbed the diary and her cloak, and crossed the silent dormitory. The common room was dark and empty. Lyra pulled her cloak over her head, and ventured out into the night.

* * *

The next morning, Lyra had a splitting headache. She slowly got up out of bed, and was astonished to find feathers covering her cloak and nightgown. It made her feel as if she was forgetting something. Something really important. Lyra was disturbed, but she didn't know what else to do, so she brushed off the feathers and went down to breakfast.

* * *

Lyra was wandering around the grounds by herself. Hermione was in the library, Ron was catching up on homework, and Harry was at the Quidditch Pitch, practicing on his own. Lyra still had a headache and a weird sense of déjà vu as she descended the trail that led to Hagrid's hut.

"Hello there, Lyra!" Hagrid called from the pumpkin patch.

"Hello, Hagrid. How are the pumpkins?" she asked.

"Doin' well, bu' tha's not why I'm out here. Most disturbin' thing 'appened las' night. I woke up this mornin' an' found all the school roosters dead," he said sadly.

"_Dead_?" Lyra asked, shocked, thinking back to the feathers.

"Strangled, by the looks of it," Hagrid replied. "What kind o' sick savage would do somethin' like tha' to the poor creatures?"

Lyra didn't reply. She just turned, and ran. She was scared out of her mind. It couldn't have been a coincidence, but she had no recollection of what she did last night. The last thing she remembered was getting up in the middle of the night. After that, it was just blank. She ran all the way back to her dormitory. She wanted-no, _needed_-to talk to Tom about this. He would know what to do.

* * *

By the time Halloween arrived, Lyra could tell that Harry was regretting his decision to go to the deathday party.

"Have fun at the feast, Lyra," Harry said morosely as he left with Ron and Hermione.

They didn't know that she wasn't going to the feast either. She pulled out the diary, and set out for the second floor.

* * *

There was a sharp pain in Lyra's hand when she woke up. She saw that she was back in the second floor bathroom. The same one she had wandered to the other night.

Lyra tried to remember what she had been doing for the past hour or so, but all she could remember was leaving the common room. She looked down at her hands, and stifled a shout. There was a gaping cut in her hand and something red and sticky all over her hands and robes. _Blood_.

Lyra ran over to the sinks, and tried to wash off the blood as quickly as she could. She ran out of the bathroom and stopped dead in her tracks. There on the wall, written in blood:

**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.**

Hanging underneath the message was Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, stiff as a board.

Lyra choked back a sob, and sprinted all the way back to the Gryffindor tower. She pulled the bloody robes over her head, and placed them in the middle of the empty dormitory.

"_Incendio_!"

The robes caught fire immediately. After a moment, Lyra conjured water to douse the flames. She swept the ashes into the dustbin, pulled on some clean robes, and set out for the Great Hall.

* * *

The feast was just finishing when Lyra got downstairs, so she simply joined the crowd and found herself next to Neville.

"Hello, Lyra! Where have you been? I didn't see you at the feast," Neville said.

Lyra thought quickly. "Oh...I was catching up on homework..."

Neville looked at her incredulously. "Why would you do homework on Halloween?"

Lyra didn't have to answer. The crowd had just reached the second floor corridor. Everyone stopped and fell silent.

Three people were standing in the middle of the corridor. It was hard to make out who they were, but then she noticed the messy hair that belonged to only one person she knew. Harry.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked. And his popping eyes fell on Harry.

"You!" he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll —"

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster — just upstairs — please feel free —"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

Percy started directing people back to the tower. Neville seemed to be in shock. Lyra gave him a little nudge, and he followed her back to the tower.

Lyra knew what she had to do. She didn't want to think that Tom would have made her do this, but it was the only explanation. She would have to get rid of that diary.

The dormitory was empty. Lavender and Parvati were down in the common room, and Hermione was with Harry and Ron, possibly getting in trouble for something Lyra knew they didn't do.

Lyra took out the diary, and dropped it in the same place she burned her robes.

"_Incendio_!"

Flames leapt out of Lyra's wand, but the diary did not catch fire.

"_Diffindo_!" Lyra cried. She made a slashing motion with her wand, but the diary remained unharmed.

Lyra broke down into sobs. What had she gotten herself into?

Only one thought raced through her mind: get rid of the diary. So she picked up the little black book and wrapped it up in a sock.

The first year dormitory was right next to hers and it was dark inside, so Lyra quietly slipped in. She dropped the diary onto a bed at random, and quickly returned upstairs to wait for the rest of the girls to return.

She washed her face, and got ready for bed. After a while, Hermione came in and started telling Lyra all about what had happened after the deathday party.

"...and then, Harry said he had heard a voice-"

"What kind of voice?" Lyra asked.

Parvati and Lavender walked in at that moment, so Hermione said that she'd explain the rest in the morning. Lyra nodded, and climbed into her four-poster.

Lyra had trouble sleeping. She felt an incredible amount of guilt. Lyra knew she was responsible for what happened to Mrs. Norris; she had to have been. And instead of turning herself in, she cowardly ran away and gave a dangerous diary to some first year girl.

Lyra closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind. As she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, a disturbing thought surfaced in the front of her mind: Was she _really_ that different from her parents?

* * *

Author's Note: I finished the next two chapters. I'll post one tomorrow, and one on Monday :) Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Things were starting to look a little brighter for Lyra. In the diary's absence, she began to realize how dependent she had been on the thing, and it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She still felt bad for leaving it for some first year to find, but there wasn't much Lyra could do about that now.

Lyra decided to set up a time with Cedric to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts again. So on Tuesday afternoon, she dragged a slightly reluctant Harry with her to the makeshift practice room. It had taken her a while to persuade him to go with her, but eventually he agreed, because they hadn't learned a single thing form Lockhart ever since the pixie incident.

Cedric greeted her when they arrived, and shook Harry's hand.

"I'm glad you decided to come, Harry. Lockhart's an idiot, and he'll make everyone fall behind," Cedric said.

Harry nodded nervously.

"Don't worry," Cedric assured him, "we'll start with easy stuff."

They reviewed a lot of stuff Lyra had learned last year. Cedric taught them a new spell that would create a loud noise to be used if they ever were in trouble. At the end of the hour, the three of them did a practice duel.

"That was great, Lyra!" Harry exclaimed as they headed down to dinner. Lyra was so glad that she could persuade him to go. Now if only they could convince Ron and Hermione...

Lyra and Harry passed through the second floor corridor on their way to the Great Hall. Filch was pacing in front of the wall where the attack happened. He glared at the two of them so they picked up their pace. Lyra shivered and tried to forget that awful night.

* * *

The next day Lyra was in the library, scrambling to finish her History of Magic composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards." She and Ron had waited until the last minute, and now they were both regretting it.

I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short..." said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's _tiny_."

"Where is she?" asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework.

"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."

Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable.

"All the copies of _Hogwarts, A History_ have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to them. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"Why do you want it?" said Harry.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" said Harry quickly.

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else —"

"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it —"

"I only need another two inches, come on —"

Lyra had already asked Hermione this morning, so she knew Ron's begging would be futile.

The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering.

Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before.

Hermione put up her hand.

Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Miss — er — ?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.

Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms and Neville's elbow slipped off his desk.

Professor Binns blinked.

"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with _facts_, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers —"

He stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.

"Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even _ludicrous_ tale —"

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see . . . the Chamber of Secrets . . .

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago — the precise date is uncertain — by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hermione's hand was back in the air.

"Sir — what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.

The class exchanged nervous looks.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing —"

"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it —"

"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore —"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't —" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

And within five minutes, most of the class had sunk back into its usual torpor. Lyra, on the other hand, was lost in thought for the rest of class. If it was her who opened the Chamber of Secrets, did that mean she was the Heir of Slytherin? It was certainly possible. After all, Voldemort was her father. But why couldn't she remember opening a chamber? It was all so confusing.

* * *

When class finally let out, Lyra followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione to dinner. They soon found themselves at the end of the corridor where the attack had happened.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Harry, dropping his bag and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues.

"Do we have to?" Lyra whined. "This is creepy."

The others ignored her.

"Scorch marks!" Harry said. "Here — and here —"

"Come and look at this!" said Hermione. "This is funny. . . ."

Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly.

"No," said Harry, "have you, Ron? Ron?"

Ron was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.

"What's up?" said Harry.

"I — don't — like — spiders," said Ron tensely.

"I never knew that," said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise.

"You've used spiders in Potions loads of times. . . ."

"I don't mind them dead," said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move. . . ."

Hermione giggled.

"It's not funny," said Ron, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my — my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick. . . . You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and . . ."

He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh.

Harry changed the subject. "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."

"It was about here," said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door."

He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.

"What's the matter?" said Harry.

"Can't go in there," said Ron gruffly. "That's a girls' toilet."

"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," said Hermione, standing up and coming over. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look."

Lyra backed away. That was the bathroom she had woken up in. She did not want to go back in there.

Hermione opened the door, and Ron followed in behind her. Harry made to follow, but then turned back to her.

"What's wrong, Lyra?" he asked.

"N-nothing," she stuttered before reluctantly following him into the bathroom.

Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.

"This is a girls' bathroom," she said, eyeing Ron and Harry suspiciously. "_They're_ not girls."

"No," Hermione agreed. "I just wanted to show them how — er — nice it is in here."

She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.

"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry mouthed at Hermione.

"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.

"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "We wanted to ask —"

"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead —"

"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," said Hermione. "Harry only —"

"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"

"We wanted to ask you if you've seen anything funny lately," said Hermione quickly. "Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween."

"Did you see anyone near here that night?" said Harry.

This was it. Lyra hadn't thought of Myrtle at the time, but it was very possible that she had seen Lyra in the bathroom that night. Myrtle took a moment to answer. Then she glanced at Lyra. Lyra shook her head slightly, hoping Myrtle wouldn't say anything.

Then, to Lyra's astonishment, "I wasn't paying attention," said Myrtle dramatically. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm — that I'm —"

"Already dead," said Ron helpfully.

Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight, although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.

Lyra breathed a sigh of relief.

Harry and Ron stood with their mouths open, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle. . . . Come on, let's go."

Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all three of them jump.

"RON!"

Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.

"That's a girls' bathroom!" he gasped. "What were you — ?"

"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know —"

Percy swelled.

"Get — away — from — there —" Percy said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner —"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy.

"Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!"

And he strode off.

* * *

"Who can it be, though?" Hermione said in a quiet voice. They were sitting in the common room, doing homework. "Who'd _want_ to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"

He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced. "If you're talking about Malfoy —"

"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him — 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!' — come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him —"

Lyra was tired of hearing all the speculations about the Heir of Slytherin. She hoped people would drop it soon. She let her gaze wander the common room, and she saw it. The diary. It was in the hands of little Ginny Weasley, who looked to be writing like mad in it. Lyra recognized the feverish look in her eyes. She had had that look too.

"-he's always boasting about it," Harry said. "They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

Lyra jumped up from her chair.

"Lyra? What's wrong?" Harry asked.

She didn't reply. Lyra dumped her books back into her bag, and took a step towards Ginny before changing her mind and taking off for her dormitory.

As she was leaving she overheard Hermione whisper softly to the boys.

"She's been acting strange lately..."

* * *

Lyra knew the others were planning something. She made it clear that she wanted no part in whatever it was.

"Are you sure you're okay, Lyra?" Harry asked her on their way to breakfast the next morning. "You seem really shaken up about the Chamber of Secrets, but you know you don't have anything to worry about. You're a pureblood."

"It's not that Harry," Lyra replied impatiently. "It's just...never mind."

Harry gave her a weird look and shrugged before catching up with Ron and Hermione. Lyra sighed. She didn't mean to push her friends away, but that was what she was doing.

Lyra had another worry on her mind. The first Quidditch match of the season was coming up on Saturday, and Gryffindor would be facing a team that had the fastest brooms gold could buy. Even Montague's absence in the game wouldn't help Gryffindor much. Slytherin also had a couple of reserve players like her.

Saturday morning, the entire Gryffindor team was huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry and her good luck as they entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better _people_ on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers —" ("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August") "— and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry.

"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So no pressure, Harry," said Fred, winking at him.

As they walked out onto the field, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three . . . two . . . one . . ."

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Lyra watched from the ground as Harry flew higher than any of the other players.

Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

A heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it narrowly.

George gave the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy.

Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the field. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible. . . .

The Bludger kept returning to Harry relentlessly. Wood saw what was going on and called a time out.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it — it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then. . . ." said Wood, anxiously.

Madam Hooch was walking toward them.

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."

Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys.

"Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinnet angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry —"

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"

"Harry, be reasonable! That thing could kill you!" Lyra shouted angrily.

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. " 'Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him —"

Madam Hooch had joined them.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry — leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, the team kicked off and resumed the game. Harry had to spiral and zigzag through the air to avoid the Bludger.

Malfoy started taunting Harry, and it looked like Harry was distracted for a moment. The Bludger smashed into his arm. Lyra gasped.

Suddenly, Harry careened towards Malfoy and made a wild snatch. He plummeted towards the ground. Lyra sprinted towards where he was laying in the mud. In one hand he grasped the Golden Snitch. His other arm was bent in an odd angle.

"Aha," Harry said vaguely. "We've won."

And he fainted.

Lyra knelt down beside him. She lifted his head onto her lap, and gently wiped some of the mud from his face.

The rest of the Gryffindor team surrounded them, and Lockhart came blundering through the crowd.

Harry started to come around.

"Oh, no, not you," he moaned, catching sight of Lockhart.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks. . . ."

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times —"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth.

"He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say —"

"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No — don't —" said Harry weakly.

"Stop! He said not too!" Lyra shouted angrily, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.

Lyra gasped as Harry's arm turned into a flopping mess.

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing — ah, Miss Black, would you escort him? — and Madam Pomfrey will be able to — er — tidy you up a bit."

Harry got to his feet and looked at his arm in horror. Lockhart hadn't mended his bones. He had removed them.

* * *

"You're in for a rough night," Madam Pomfrey said, pouring out a steaming beakerful of Skele-gro. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office as Harry tried to choke down the potion.

"We won, though," said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face . . . he looked ready to kill. . . ."

"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," said Hermione darkly.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff. . . ."

"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking," said Ron.

"What are you talking about?" Lyra asked.

The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Harry.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy."

They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

* * *

The next morning, the staff table seemed particularly quiet. Lyra had come down for breakfast with Ron and Hermione, who planned to go meet Harry afterwards. As breakfast let out, they saw Professor McGonagall whispering quietly to Professor Flitwick in the Entrance Hall.

"...Colin Creevey was found petrified. Albus believes it means the Chamber of Secrets is, indeed, open..."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and quickly headed off somewhere. Lyra collapsed on the stairs and put her head in her hands. She couldn't believe it. How could she be so naive to think that this would all be over? Now Ginny was being controlled by the diary and Colin was petrified, and it was all _her_ _fault_.

"Lyra?"

She looked up. It was Professor Snape, and he looked particularly grim.

"Yes, sir?"

"Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you. Follow me."

They marched in silence to where a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle stood.

"Lemon drop!" he said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. As she and Professor Snape stepped onto it, Lyra heard the wall thud closed behind them. They rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last, slightly dizzy, Lyra saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

Professor Snape rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were inside the office waiting for them.

Lyra looked around. Dumbledore's was by far the most interesting office Lyra had ever been in. If she hadn't been scared out of her wits that she was about to be thrown out of school, she would have been very pleased to have a chance to look around it.

It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames.

"Please have a seat, Lyra," Professor Dumbledore said in a kind voice from behind his desk.

She took a nervous seat in front of him. Lyra could feel Professor McGonagall's eyes on her back. She had no doubt that McGonagall suspected her.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I've summoned you here," Dumbledore said. "Rest assured you are not in any trouble, Lyra, but given who your father is, I'm afraid this was necessary. A student was attacked last night by the Heir of Slytherin."

Dumbledore paused. "...I am not accusing you of anything; however, I must ask. Is there anything you would like to tell me, Lyra? Anything at all?"

Lyra gulped nervously. She couldn't keep quiet anymore. Not after a student was attacked. She slowly nodded.

"Well?"

Lyra glanced at the other professors. Dumbledore got the hint.

"Severus, Minerva...would you be so kind as to step out for a moment?" Dumbledore asked.

McGonagall looked affronted, and swept out of the office. Severus looked at Lyra sadly before quietly following McGonagall.

Dumbledore turned back to Lyra. She took a deep breath.

"There was-this-this diary," she stuttered nervously. "I wrote in it, and a boy wrote back. He was very kind. Understanding. I thought he was my _friend_. Then things started happening. I woke up in weird places...forgot things...on Halloween I tried to get rid of the diary..."

Lyra took a breath, and continued in a tiny voice, "I think I opened the Chamber of Secrets."

Dumbledore didn't look angry, like Lyra thought he would.

"You said you got rid of the diary? Do you have any idea where it is now?" he asked gently.

Lyra hesitated. She couldn't just turn Ginny in when it was her fault Ginny had the diary in the first place.

"No, sir," she replied.

"What about last night? Are there any moments you can't remember?"

"No, I was in the tower all night. You can ask Hermione, I was with her," Lyra said quickly.

"I believe you, Lyra," Dumbledore said. "Now I don't want you dwelling on this. Keep an eye out for the diary, but don't obsess over it, okay?"

"You mean...you're not going to expel me?" Lyra asked.

"I see no reason for any punishment. You were not acting of your own free will," Dumbledore said.

As Lyra headed back to Gryffindor tower, she knew that she would have to do whatever it took to get that diary back from Ginny.


	6. Chapter 6

Getting the diary back proved more difficult than Lyra had ever imagined. Lyra searched for it in the first year dormitory during dinner one night, but Ginny seemed to take the thing everywhere with her. Lyra was starting to think she should just confront Ginny about it, but she kept putting it off.

It was already the third week of December. Lyra was walking across the entrance hall with Harry, Ron, and Hermione when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days. . . ."

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest.

"Could be useful," Lyra said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"

They were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young — maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not —" Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by Professor Snape.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions — for full details, see my published works."

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry — you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

Lyra glared at him.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.

"One — two — three —"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Lyra let out a loud cheer with some of the Slytherins. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes.

"Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" said Lyra, Harry and Ron together.

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the plat- form. "That was a Disarming Charm — as you see, I've lost my wand — ah, thank you, Miss Brown — yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy — however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see . . ."

Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me —"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry and Ron first.

"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter —"

Harry moved automatically toward Lyra.

"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Lyra— you can partner Miss Parkinson. Miss Granger, partner with Miss Bulstrode."

Pansy strutted over. Lyra gave her an evil grin. This would be too easy.

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"

Lyra and Pansy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents — only to disarm them — we don't want any accidents — one . . . two . . . three —"

"Stupefy!" Lyra shouted.

Pansy hadn't even had time to get out one syllable. She was hit with Lyra's spell, and was blasted of her feet.

Cedric gave Lyra a thumbs up from across the hall.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd.

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.

"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted. Pansy unsteadily got to her feet and glared at Lyra.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever his broken wand had done; but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan. . .Careful there, Miss Fawcett. . . . Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot —"

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair — Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you —"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox."

Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

Malfoy and Harry faced each other.

"Three — two — one — go!" Lockhart shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily. "I'll get rid of it. . . ."

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Lyra and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Harry took a step forward and shouted "Leave her alone!" at the same time Lyra yelled "Get away from me!"

The snake slumped, and Lyra felt the fear drain out of her.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape gave her and Harry a shrewd and calculating look. Lyra was dimly aware of an ominous muttering all around the walls. Then she felt a tugging on the back of her robes.

"Come on," said Hermione's voice in her ear. "Move — come on —"

Hermione steered her out of the hall, Ron and Harry hurrying alongside them. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. Lyra didn't have a clue what was going on, and neither Ron nor Hermione explained anything until they had dragged them all the way up to the empty Gryffindor common room. Then Ron pushed Harry and Lyra into an armchair and said, "You're both Parselmouths. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" said Harry.

"A Parselmouth!" said Ron. "You can talk to snakes!"

"I know," said Harry. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once — long story — but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to — that was before I knew I was a wizard —"

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Ron repeated faintly.

So?" said Harry. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"Oh, no they can't," said Ron. "It's not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad."

"What's bad?" said Lyra, starting to feel quite angry. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if we hadn't told that snake not to attack me —"

"Oh, that's what you said to it?"

"What d'you mean? You were there — you heard me —"

"I heard you two speaking Parseltongue," said Ron. "Snake language. You could have been saying anything — it was creepy, you know —"

Harry and Lyra gaped at him.

"We spoke a different language? But — I didn't realize — how can we speak a language without knowing we can speak it?" Lyra asked.

Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though someone had died.

"D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off Lyra's head?" Harry said. "What does it matter how I did it as long as Lyra doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

"It matters," said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice, "because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent."

Lyra's mouth fell open.

"Exactly," said Ron. "And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandchildren or something —"

"But that doesn't even make sense. How could Lyra and I both speak it? We'd have to be related," said Harry.

"I don't think we're related, but there might be another explanation," Lyra said. She looked at Harry. "I think it's time Ron and Hermione knew the truth," she said quietly.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked doubtfully.

Lyra nodded.

"Truth about what?" Ron asked.

Lyra sighed. "The truth that I'm Lord Voldemort's daughter."

* * *

There was a beat of silence, then-

"What?!" Hermione shrieked.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron yelled. "You're _joking_!"

"It's not a joke," Harry said. "We found out at the end of last year..."

"Why didn't you tell us, Lyra?" Hermione asked with a hurt expression.

"I thought that if you knew, you wouldn't want anything to do with me," she explained softly.

"I told her that was ridiculous," Harry said. "But I wasn't going to say anything if she wasn't ready for you to know."

"Oh, Lyra!" Hermione said. "Of course it doesn't matter to us! Right, Ron? Ron?"

Ron's mouth was still gaping in shock. Hermione nudged him, and he finally recovered a bit.

"Yeah...of course," he said faintly.

Lyra smiled. "Thanks. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship. Anyway...back to what I was saying before. What if the reason Harry and I can speak Parseltongue is because of Voldemort?"

"You mean, you think Voldemort was descended from Slytherin?" Harry asked.

"It would make sense," Lyra said.

"Well that would explain why you are a Parseltongue, but last time I checked I'm definitely _not_ related to Voldemort," Harry said.

"Not by blood, but he did give you that scar. I don't know...maybe it's all related somehow..." Lyra said. There was an answer to all of this, she was sure.

"That's kind of a stretch," Hermione said, "but you're right, perhaps there's a connection..."

"I feel like it should be obvious," Lyra said in frustration, "like this all adds up to something..."

They didn't look convinced.

"Never mind," Lyra sighed.

She was exhausted, so she bid her friends goodnight and headed up to her dormitory. As she was starting up the staircase, she thought for a moment she saw a flash of red. She looked around, but didn't see anything. It was forgotten by the time she climbed into her four-poster.

* * *

Herbology was cancelled the next morning due to a snow storm, so Lyra took the opportunity to go to the library.

Huddled in the back corner, Lyra went through piles of books. She was searching for anything that might lead her to an answer. She started by researching Parseltongue. She couldn't find much on it. Just that apparently Slytherin had gained the ability to talk to snakes by saving the king of serpents. She looked for an explanation about this king of serpents, but couldn't find any, so she searched through books on snakes.

Finally, she came across a very old library book. She found a short passage on the monster:

_ "Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land,  
__there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk,  
known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach  
gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a  
chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are  
most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs,  
the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the  
beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the  
Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only  
from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."_

Lyra set the book down. She couldn't believe it. Everything fit now. Lyra had woken up covered with feathers. She must have killed the roosters, because their crowing is fatal to the Basilisk. Harry had said he heard voices in the walls. He heard voices, _because he was a parselmouth_. He was hearing the Basilisk, but how was the giant snake getting around?

If Harry had heard the voices from the wall, then maybe the Basilisk could somehow travel through the walls. _The pipes! _The Basilisk must be using the plumbing, which explained why she kept waking up in that bathroom!

Lyra knew she had the answer. Now she just had to tell someone, quickly.

She heard voices coming towards where she was sitting, and quickly tried to gather up all her books.

"-My money's on Black. I mean, she is from a pureblood family...the Blacks were in Slytherin for centuries-"

"but it could be Potter...he must have dark powers if he survived the Killing Curse..."

A group of Hufflepuffs rounded the corner, and stopped dead in their tracks when they caught sight of her. Lyra recognized Ernie Macmillan, who was leading the group.

The other Hufflepuffs backed away from her, but Ernie boldly stepped forward, and snatched the book she had been reading.

"Aha! I knew it! Your the Heir of Slytherin! Look, Hannah, she's reading about giant snakes!" Ernie shouted.

Lyra stepped forward, and snatched the book back.

"Mind your own business," she said darkly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm in a hurry."

The Hufflepuffs scuttled out of the way in fear. Lyra would have found it funny if she wasn't in a hurry to tell someone about the Basilisk.

Dumbledore's office was close by, so she headed straight there. She raced through the halls, almost at a sprint. Just as she was nearing the last corner, a cold voice stopped her in her tracks.

"You shouldn't have gotten rid of the diary, Lyra."

Lyra slowly turned around. Ginny Weasley, with a disturbingly vacant expression, was standing at the other end of the corridor.

"Ginny...stop this. Don't let the diary control you," Lyra said, desperately.

Ginny smiled. "Sorry, Lyra. I'm afraid poor Ginny has no idea this is even happening. This is between you and me, _my dear_."

"Tom? You're controlling her, aren't you?" Lyra asked. "Stop! Please!"

"I can't do that. You know too much, Lyra. You will ruin everything."

"Why are you doing this?" Lyra demanded.

"It is my duty - _our_ duty - to finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"What do you mean, 'our duty'? What do I have to do with any of this?" Lyra asked.

"I wondered that as well. All this time, I thought you were just some silly girl that found my diary by accident. Imagine my surprise when Ginny told me she overheard you telling your friends that you were Voldemort's daughter..."

"Why do you care? Voldemort was after your time, wasn't he?"

Ginny let out a high pitched laugh. "Voldemort is my past, present, and future, my dear," she said evilly before taking out her wand.

She began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:

_TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

Then she waved the wand once, and the letters rearranged themselves:

_I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

"You see?" she whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, dear — I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"You! You've been behind _all_ of this! You made me open the Chamber of Secrets!"

"Yes, Lyra dear. It has worked out brilliantly so far, wouldn't you say? Except you. I wonder why I found it so difficult to control _you_. Ginny is putting up a good fight, but not nearly as much as you did. Your will could not be bent, and you stubbornly defend your little mudblood friends to no end. And I can't let you run off to Dumbledore and tell him everything, can I? You are a..._liability_, my dear..."

"So what are you going to do? Attack me? Your own daughter?" Lyra demanded.

"I don't want to do that, Lyra. If you agree to help me purge the school of mudbloods, then I won't _need_ to hurt you..."

"NEVER!" Lyra shouted.

"My patience is wearing thin, Lyra...I am your father. Your only family. Stand with me, help me, and you will be rewarded beyond your dreams-"

"I will never join you. I love muggles and muggleborns, and my loyalty is to _Harry_," she said passionately.

It was silent for a moment.

Then Ginny lunged at Lyra.

Ginny shoved her to the ground, and kicked her hard. Lyra rolled over, and pulled out her wand.

"Stupefy!" she gasped. Ginny blocked it wordlessly, and grabbed Lyra's throat. Lyra couldn't breathe. Everything was getting darker. She kicked out blindly, and heard a grunt.

Lyra rolled herself away, and got unsteadily to her feet. She raced down the corridor, and ran right through something ice cold.

It was Nearly Headless Nick.

"Miss Black? What are you doing out of class?" he asked in confusion.

Lyra looked back down the corridor, but couldn't see Ginny anywhere.

"Ow-go, we have to go-attacked-," Lyra gasped, looking around for any sign of Ginny.

"Pardon? I didn't quite catch that. Did you say something about an attack?" Nick asked.

Lyra couldn't reply. She was holding her ribs. It felt like at least one of them was broken from where Ginny had kicked her. She heard something slithering down the corridor.

"What in the-" Nick shouted. There was a sizzling sound, and Lyra looked up. Nick was black and smoky.

As she looked through him, she stared straight into a pair of great big yellow eyes.

Every muscle seized up in Lyra's body, and she fell, stiff and frozen, to the ground.


	7. Chapter 7

There was only empty blackness. Nonexistence. It could have been like that for a few seconds or a few years. It was as if time didn't exist.

The first thing she felt that was different from the emptiness was a burning. She was ecstatic. Pain meant existence! Then the burning grew, and she wished she could cry out, but she still felt frozen.

All of a sudden, it felt like a bucket of cold water engulfed her, and Lyra sat up and gasped for air.

She was too scared to open her eyes, but she felt her face and hair to reassure herself she was truly alive. Lyra laughed in relief, and heard a sound from her left.

"Lyra. It's alright, you're safe. Open your eyes," Professor Snape gently said.

She blinked, and took in her surroundings. She was in the hospital wing, which meant she must have been petrified by the Basilisk. Professor Snape was sitting on her left, with a concerned expression. Then she remembered everything that happened, and began shouting.

"Professor! It's a basilisk! Voldemort-he's controlling Ginny Weasley-with a diary-"

"Hush, Lyra, we know all about that," Snape said.

"You-you do? What happened?" Lyra asked.

"You missed quite a bit in the past five months," he said.

Lyra thought she heard him wrong. She couldn't have been petrified for that long!

"Five _months_?!" she shrieked.

"Yes, you were petrified in December of last year, and now it is late May. But don't worry about that now. We will catch you up later. Right now, you need rest," he said in an attempt to soothe her.

"But I've been resting for five months!" Lyra whined. "Can't I see my friends? And what about the basilisk? And the diary?"

"I see you won't be satisfied with waiting," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "Very well. Miss Granger is right over there. I'll go fetch Potter and Weasley." He grimaced a little, but got up to get them nonetheless. He quickly bent down to give Lyra a quick kiss on her forehead before sweeping out of the hospital wing.

Lyra looked where Snape had indicated and saw Hermione sitting up a few beds down from her. She looked as dazed as Lyra. It hit her that Hermione must have been petrified too! Lyra jumped out of bed and rushed to Hermione's side. She flung her arms around Hermione, causing Madam Pomfrey to give her a disapproving look.

"Lyra!" Hermione cried, slightly muffled.

Lyra finally let go, and they both smiled at each other.

"Do you know what happened?" Lyra asked.

"Not much," Hermione admitted. "But I'll fill you in on what happened up to when I got petrified."

Hermione told her all about the Polyjuice Potion, and that they kept it from her because of how strange she was acting. Hermione told her how she eventually unraveled the mystery of what the monster was, just like Lyra had, and how she and the Ravenclaw prefect had gotten petrified coming out of the library.

"You found out the same way I did," Lyra said.

Hermione grimaced. "I should have figured it out sooner!" she huffed.

Lyra just shook her head at her friend.

"So what exactly happened to you?" Hermione asked, just as the doors of the hospital wing banged open. Ron and Harry ran in looking excited.

Lyra locked eyes with Harry, and smiled. He ran towards her, picked her up, and swung her around. Lyra laughed with happiness, and held onto him tightly. They stayed like that for a while, until Ron cleared his throat, and they finally broke apart, giggling.

Hermione was smiling at Lyra with a knowing look, and Ron was just looking at his feet awkwardly.

"So..." Lyra cleared her throat. "What happened while Hermione and I were petrified?"

Harry and Ron started where Hermione had left off. By the end of their explanation, Lyra's eyes were as big as saucers.

"You-you killed a giant man-eating snake with a _sword_?" Lyra asked faintly.

Harry grinned, and nodded.

"What will it be next?Dragons?" Lyra asked sarcastically.

They laughed, as Harry finished telling them about Dumbledore's talk with him, and how he freed Dobby the house elf.

It was soon Lyra's turn to explain. She thought they would hate her after she confessed her part in it, but to her surprise they were understanding. Lyra was sure that Ron would turn on her when she told them about how she was the reason Ginny got the diary, but he simply shrugged.

"You were scared," he said simply. "People do things they later regret when they're scared."

After everything had been explained, the four friends set out for the feast together.

Lyra could not remember a time she had ever been happier than that night. The feast was the best one she had ever had at Hogwarts. Everyone was in their pajamas, and the celebrations went on for most of the night.

Gryffindor won the house cup for the second year in a row thanks to Harry's bravery down in the Chamber. McGonagall stood up halfway through, and announced the cancellations of all exams, amidst cheers from the entire student body except Hermione. Lyra was relieved since she missed five months worth of schoolwork.

Ginny slipped in the Great Hall near the end, and squeezed herself in next to Lyra. Everyone was giving her pitying looks, so Lyra led the younger girl over to the corner where they could talk more privately.

"Lyra," Ginny began. "I'm so sorr-"

"No, Ginny, I'm the one who needs to be apologizing," Lyra said.

"Wh-what? B-but I attacked you!"

"Ginny..." Lyra sighed. "I'm the reason you got the diary."

"What?" Ginny asked, confused.

Lyra explained how she was the one who originally had the diary, but she got scared of it's power over her. So she left it in Ginny's dormitory, hoping to be rid of it.

To Lyra's surprise, Ginny nodded understandingly.

"I tried to get rid of it too, and it ended up with someone else," she said. "I felt so bad about it later, but I don't blame you, Lyra. I trusted Tom too. I know how persuasive he was."

Lyra smiled, and gave Ginny a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"There's something else I need to ask you..." Ginny said, looking awkward. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help but overhear that night...are you really You-Know-Who's daughter?" she asked, looking rather nervous.

"Yes," Lyra replied. "I am. But that doesn't mean I'm anything like him...at least I hope not..."

"For what it's worth, I don't think you're like him," Ginny said. "You're so nice...everyone loves you! Especially Harry Potter..." she blushed, and trailed off into an awkward silence.

Lyra smiled. "I suppose you're right. Anyway, can you promise to keep my secret? I don't really want the whole world finding out who my father is just yet."

"Of course!" Ginny promised. The two girls rejoined the feast, both looking much happier than they had all year.

* * *

"Huh. I don't really feel much like sleeping," Hermione said. The feast had finally ended at four in the morning. Lyra wasn't very tired either after her five month long nap, so they sat up talking. Hermione caught Lyra up on some more of what happened while she was petrified.

They talked about frivolous things like classes and Quidditch, carefully avoiding the subjects of the Chamber or Voldemort. After an hour there was a lull in their conversation, until Hermione gave Lyra another knowing smile.

"What?" Lyra laughed.

"Oh nothing...just thinking about you and Harry..."

"Wh-what about us?" Lyra asked nervously.

Hermione giggled. "Oh never mind..."

"Hermione!" Lyra exclaimed, playfully hitting her with a pillow. Hermione grabbed her own pillow, and hit Lyra back. Lavender and Parvati noticed what was going on, and joined in the pillow fight. After half an hour, all four of them were covered in feathers and finally tired enough to go to sleep.

* * *

Too soon, it was time to pack up their things and board the Hogwarts Express again. They spent the trip playing Exploding Snap and setting off Fred and George's Filibuster fireworks. Harry gave them his aunt and uncle's telephone number, but Lyra wondered if Professor Snape even had a telephone she could use.

The trip ended all too fast, and the four friends disembarked from the train. The Weasleys were waiting on the platform, and Mrs. Weasley wasted no time giving all of them a big hug. Lyra noticed Professor Snape, looking impatient, standing at a bit of a distance from the rest of the families. She said quick goodbyes to Ron and Hermione and started towards her godfather, but Harry pulled her back.

Harry smiled, and led her over to a less crowded area of the platform. The rest of the platform seemed to go out of focus, as Harry turned towards her.

"It's been a crazy year, huh?"

"Yeah, it has. I-I'm so sorry-"

"I told you, Lyra, you didn't have to apologize. None of it was your fault. If anyone's, it was Malfoy's. He slipped that diary into your things on purpose...anyway, all of that is in the past now. Let's just forget about it."

"I agree," she said.

"I'm really going to miss you, Lyra," Harry said.

Lyra blushed. "I'll miss you too, Harry," she said. Lyra wondered why she felt so strange around Harry now. It was like her stomach started fluttering whenever he was near.

She looked up into her best friend's emerald eyes, and felt slightly dizzy. Harry had the same dazed expression. He leaned in closer. For the briefest of moments, his lips lightly brushed hers, and Lyra closed her eyes. It was over as quickly as it began.

"LYRA!"

They both jumped, and automatically took a step back from each other. Snape was storming over to them, and Lyra thought he looked ready to murder Harry right there on the platform.

"You should probably go, Harry," she said quickly.

Harry had turned pale. "R-right. Bye, Lyra," he said quickly before throwing himself through the gateway.

Lyra smiled, and touched her lips. She couldn't help but laugh when she caught sight of Snape's furious expression. It seemed to make him more angry, as he literally turned purple with rage, and dragged her to the apparition point.

Lyra knew she was in for an unpleasant summer, with five months of schoolwork to catch up on, but at that moment, she couldn't think of a time she had ever been so happy.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know it's been a long time since I last updated. Sorry, but this is not a big priority, I just like writing for fun. There is no need to be rude (I'm talking to you, anonymous guest). Anyway, this is the end of second year, but I will include third year in this story since second year was so short. Thanks for reading :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Lyra's arm felt like it was about to fall off from stirring what seemed like the hundredth potion she had made this summer. After being petrified for five months, Lyra knew she had a lot of work to catch up on, but this was getting ridiculous.

"There," she said wearily, corking the potion. Her godfather, Professor Snape, looked up.

"Bring it here," he ordered.

She took him the vial that contained the finished potion. He examined it, and seemed to find it acceptable.

"Good. Now start on the dizzying drought."

"Professor Snape! I've already made three potions today!" Lyra whined. "Can't I take a break at least?"

"Do you want to enter third year at the same level as your peers or not?" he snapped irritably. "Get to work."

Grumbling under her breath, Lyra ignited the cauldron again and set to work. She knew Snape's irritability had little to do with her. The professor had been in a bad mood ever since the story of how an Azkaban prisoner, Sirius Black, had escaped. Lyra was curious to know if the prisoner was somehow related to her, but Snape refused to answer any questions.

Lyra greatly missed her friends. Harry, Hermione, and Ron kept up regular correspondence, but it wasn't the same as seeing them in person, and Snape refused to let her visit anyone until she finished all the work she missed.

After an hour of brewing, Lyra was finished with the dizzying drought. Snape finally let her leave the Potions lab, only to assign her a Transfiguration essay. Lyra worked until dinner. As she was helping Professor Snape clean the dishes, a large owl swooped in the open window. Lyra recognized it as a Hogwarts owl.

Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Lyra slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read:

_Dear Ms. Black,_

_Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock._

_Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._

_A list of books for next year is enclosed. Due to your petrification, you still need to sign up your elective courses for next year. You may choose up to three of the following: Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Divination. Please send your selections as soon as possible._

_Yours sincerely,  
Professor M. McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

Lyra pulled out the Hogsmeade permission slip, and passed it to her godfather.

"You'll sign it, won't you?" she asked nervously.

Snape frowned at the parchment.

After a minute of tense silence as Lyra waited anxiously and Snape glowered at the permission slip, he finally relented and reached for a quill.

"Yes!" Lyra cheered. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She yelled, jumping up and down.

"I expect you to be on your best behavior. Any word of you misbehaving, and I will rescind my permission _immediately_. Do you understand?" Snape grumbled.

"Yes, sir!" Lyra said.

"Here," Snape muttered, passing the signed permission back to her.

Lyra stored the parchment safely in her trunk to be handed in, and quickly sent Professor McGonagall her elective choices (Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures).

* * *

Lyra had to catch up on so much schoolwork that they didn't get a chance to pick up her new school supplies from Diagon Alley until the day before term was to start. Lyra met the Weasleys in the Leaky Cauldron so that Professor Snape could go finish up preparing for the new school year.

"Lyra!"

She was immediately engulfed in a hug by Ron and Hermione.

"What are you doing here, Hermione?" she asked as they disentangled from their hug.

"I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight," Hermione explained. "Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things."

"You should see if you can stay too, Lyra!" Ron piped up. "I'm staying here as well, and Harry's around here somewhere, I think..."

"I wish I could, but I doubt Professor Snape would let me," Lyra sighed.

"Ron, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she bustled over to them, "hurry up, we're all going to Gringotts now-oh, Lyra! It's so nice to see you! Have you had a good summer?" she asked kindly.

"Oh...yes, it's been alright..." Lyra lied.

Ron and Hermione gave her knowing glances. She often complained in her letters about all the schoolwork she had to catch up on.

Soon the group had made it to Gringotts. Lyra and the Weasleys went down to the vaults while Hermione exchanged her muggle money. Outside the bank, Ron, Hermione, and Lyra split off from the rest of the group.

They visited Flourish and Blott's first. The manager looked ready to cry when they said they wanted three of the biting books. After that, they made their way to the Apothecary and Madam Malkin's. Then they went to Ollivander's so that Ron could get a new wand after the Whomping Willow broke his last year. Once their shopping was done, they rested for a moment at Florean Fortescue's. Suddenly, Ron pointed at someone.

"Harry! HARRY!"

Lyra looked over, and sure enough, there was Harry. He had grown a few inches since she had last seen him, and his hair was messier than ever.

"Finally!" said Ron, grinning at Harry as he sat down. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and —"

"I got all my school stuff last week," Harry explained. "And how come you knew I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Dad," said Ron simply.

"Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" said Hermione in a very serious voice.

"You did _what_?!" Lyra spluttered.

"I didn't mean to," said Harry, while Ron roared with laughter. "I just — lost control."

"It's not funny, Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

"So am I," admitted Harry. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Ron. "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" shrugged Ron, still chuckling. "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

"Excellent!" said Harry happily. "What about you, Lyra?"

He turned to her, and she blushed a little, thinking back to the last time they had talked in person. Harry had kissed her goodbye on the platform last year, but he never mentioned the incident in any of his letters so Lyra was beginning to wonder if he might be regretting it.

"No, I doubt Professor Snape will let me..." she replied eventually.

"So, have you got all your new books and stuff?" Harry addressed all of them.

"Look at this," said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books —" He pointed at a large bag under his chair. "What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted three."

"What's all that, Hermione?" Harry asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her.

"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I," said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies —"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Ron, rolling his eyes at Harry. "You're Muggleborn! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," said Hermione earnestly.

"Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?" asked Harry, while Ron sniggered. Hermione ignored them.

"I've still got ten Galleons," she said, checking her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice book? said Ron innocently.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione composedly. "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig and you've got Errol —"

"I haven't," said Ron. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."

Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.

"There's a magical creature shop just over there," said Harry, who knew Diagon Alley very well by now. "You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl."

Twenty minutes later, Scabbers was thoroughly traumatized and Hermione was carrying a fluffy ginger cat.

Ron was still grumbling about Crookshanks as they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

Lyra was allowed to stay and eat dinner at the Leaky Cauldron. Lyra, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys ate through five delicious courses. After dinner, everyone was very full and sleepy.

One by one, most of the Weasleys went up to check on their things for the next day. Lyra stayed downstairs to wait for Professor Snape to pick her up. She sat down on one of the couches by the fireplace to wait, but soon felt someone sit down next to her. She looked over and saw Harry beside her, looking nervous.

"I thought I'd wait with you," he said. Lyra blushed again, but nodded.

There were a few minutes of awkward silence, but then Harry suddenly took her hand in his. He looked about to say something, but the flames in the fireplace suddenly turned emerald, and Professor Snape appeared.

"Lyra, are you ready to go-" Snape started to say, but stopped when he saw Harry.

"Potter," he sneered.

Harry quickly let go of Lyra's hand, wished her a hasty "goodbye", and fled upstairs.

Lyra sighed, and tried not to meet her godfather's eyes. She knew he would be glaring at her. They quickly returned to Spinner's End, and Lyra took her things upstairs before Snape could start asking awkward questions.

* * *

Lyra overslept the next morning, and Snape didn't bother getting her up. As a result, they barely made it to the Platform before the train was to leave.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts," Snape said before leaving.

_'Some goodbye_,' Lyra thought to herself.

She hurried onto the train, and began searching for her friends. Finally, she found them in the last compartment with an older man who was fast asleep.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" she heard Ron hiss as she opened the door.

"Professor R. J. Lupin." whispered Hermione at once.

"How'd you know that? Oh, hello, Lyra!"

Lyra smiled at them, and took the seat next to Harry.

"It's on his case," Hermione replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

"Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.

"That's obvious," whispered Hermione. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway..." he turned to Harry, "what were you going to tell us?"

Harry started explaining all about an argument Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had, and a warning Mr. Weasley had given him about Sirius Black. Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, "Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry...you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry..."

"I don't go looking for trouble," said Harry, nettled. "Trouble usually finds _me_."

"How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?" said Ron shakily.

"But they'll catch him, won't they?" said Hermione earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too..."

"What's that noise?" said Ron suddenly.

A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.

"It's coming from your trunk, Harry," said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack.

"Is that a Sneakoscope?" said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look.

"Yeah...mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry."

"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" said Hermione shrewdly.

"No! Well...I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys...but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?"

"Stick it back in the trunk," Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake him up."

He nodded toward Professor Lupin. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope in then closed the lid of the trunk on it.

"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ron, sitting back down. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me."

"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain—"

"Yeah, I think it is," said Ron in an offhand sort of way. "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"

"What's that?" said Hermione.

"It's this sweetshop," said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, "where they've got everything...Pepper Imps — they make you smoke at the mouth — and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next–"

"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on eagerly. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain —"

"– and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.

Hermione looked around at Harry.

"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"

"'Spect it will," said Harry heavily. "You'll have to tell me when you've found out."

"What d'you mean?" asked Lyra.

"I can't go. The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either."

Ron looked horrified.

"You're not allowed to come? But—no way—McGonagall or someone will give you permission—"

"I doubt that," Lyra muttered. McGonagall was very strict.

"– or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle —"

"Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of the school with Black on the loose —"

"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask of permission," said Harry bitterly. "But if we're with him," said Ron spiritedly to Hermione. "Black wouldn't dare —"

"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish," snapped Hermione. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because _we're_ there?"

* * *

The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened overhead. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment.

At one o'clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.

"D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. "He looks like he could do with some food."

Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.

"Er — Professor?" she said. "Excuse me — Professor?"

He didn't move.

"Don't worry, dear," said the witch, as she handed them a large stack of cauldron cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."

"I suppose he is asleep?" said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean — he hasn't died, has he?"

"No, no, he's breathing," whispered Hermione, taking the cauldron cake Harry passed her.

He might not be very good company, but Professor Lupin's presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps outside in the corridor again, and their three least favorite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.

"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Did your mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort.

"Who's that?" said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Lupin.

"New teacher," said Harry, who got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back.

"What were you saying, Malfoy?"

Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed. "C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.

Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.

"I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year," he said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and —" Ron made a violent gesture in midair.

"Ron," hissed Lyra, pointing at Professor Lupin, "be careful..." But Professor Lupin was still fast asleep.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.

"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Great," said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..."

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"What's going on?" said Ron's voice from behind Harry.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"

Harry felt his way back to his seat.

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno..."

There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard..."

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Lyra's legs.

"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry —"

"Hullo, Neville," said Harry.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea! Sit down —"

There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain. "Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron —"

"Come in and sit down —"

"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" said Neville.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.

Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

But it was visible only for a split second. The hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Lyra felt her own breath catch in her chest. The cold went deeper than her skin. It was inside her chest, it was inside her very heart...

From far away, Lyra could hear sobbing. It was heart-wrenching sobbing.

She could hear a distant voice saying something about Sirius Black, before a silvery light filled the entire compartment. Lyra's breathing slowed down, and she caught a glimpse of the creature gliding away.

Then she realized Harry was on the ground. Lyra fell down to kneel beside him.

"Harry!" she cried.

The train slowly started moving again, and the lanterns turned on. Ron and Hermione joined her beside Harry, and started shaking him.

"Sorry," Lyra muttered quickly before slapping Harry hard across his face.

"W-what?" Harry groaned. He was drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to be sick.

Ron and Hermione heaved him back onto his seat.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked nervously.

"Yeah," said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. "What happened? Where's that — that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.

"But I heard screaming —"

A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it.

"What was that thing?" he asked Lupin.

"A Dementor," said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the

Dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..."

He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I don't get it...what happened?" said Harry, wiping sweat off his face.

"Well — that thing — the Dementor — stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face) — and you — you —"

"I thought you were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching—"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the Dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away..."

"It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again..."

"I thought I heard someone sobbing..." Lyra said shakily.

Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.

"But didn't any of you — fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.

"No," said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though..."

Professor Lupin had come back. "We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," he said. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Fine," he muttered, embarrassed.

They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

Lyra followed the others to the carriages. She stopped when she saw the weird horse-like creatures again. Somehow the didn't seem as frightening as they did last year. She timidly walked up to one of them, and patted it. It was wet and scaly, but the creature leaned into her hand, so she supposed it was friendly.

"Lyra, what on Earth are you doing?" Ron called to her from inside the carriage.

Lyra climbed into the carriage, and Ron gave her a look.

"Are you crazy? It's freezing out there! What were you looking at anyway?" he said.

"Don't you see them?" Lyra asked, feeling as if she lost her mind. Was she the only one able to see the creatures?

"See what?" Ron asked blankly.

"Oh...nevermind," Lyra said in exasperation. She took a seat next to Harry, who was still recovering from the Dementor, while Ron was looking at both of them nervously.

Once they finally made it inside the warm Entrance Hall, a voice called out, "Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"

Professor McGonagall was calling over the heads of the crowd.

"There's no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office," she told them.

"Move along there, Weasley, Black."

At the sound of her last name, several people near her jumped and turned to stare at her. Lyra rolled her eyes, and dragged Ron into the Great Hall. It was just her luck to have the same last name as an escaped prisoner.

The Sorting began quickly as everyone was excited to get to the feast. Professor Flitwick read off the names, and Lyra began to zone out a bit, absentmindedly clapping with the rest of Gryffindor when someone was sorted into their house.

"Owens, Brandon!" Flitwick suddenly called out.

Lyra gasped and stared up at the stool. Sure enough, she recognized Brandon's mousy hair. He looked very nervous sitting on the stool in front of everyone. Lyra couldn't believe he was here! She could have kicked herself; she hadn't written to him since she left the orphanage. She wouldn't be surprised if he hated her. Lyra looked fondly at Brandon. He had grown so much since she last saw him.

The Sorting Hat took several minutes, but it finally called out "GRYFFINDOR!"

Lyra jumped up, and cheered the loudest for him. Several people stared at her, but she paid them no mind. Brandon seemed to hear her, and he grinned. Instead of joining the other first years at the end of the table, he ran right up to her.

Lyra grabbed him, and hugged him fiercely.

"Lyra! _Oof_. Get off!" Brandon said, but laughed. He sat down next to her, and Lyra wiped away a couple tears that had escaped.

"Why are you crying, Ly?" Brandon giggled.

"I'm just so happy to see you-I can't believe this-you're here! I'm so sorry for not writing-You must hate me-" Lyra rambled.

"Ly, it's okay! I understand now why you couldn't visit; this place is a far piece from St. Anne's, isn't it?" Brandon laughed.

Lyra smiled fondly at him.

Just then, Harry and Hermione returned from Professor McGonagall's office, and sat on either side of Ron.

"What was all that about?" Ron muttered to Harry.

Harry started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the headmaster stood up to speak, and he broke off.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Lyra saw Harry look uncomfortable.

"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors," he said.

Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from them, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Lyra among them.

Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed rather loudly.

Lyra was surprised to see the expression on her godfather's face; it was beyond anger: it was loathing. Snape may get irritated with Lyra every once in a while, but she had never received one of those looks from him before.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Harry, Ron, Lyra, and Hermione stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular.

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"

Harry, Ron, Lyra, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

After the delicious feast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went up to congratulate Hagrid on getting the position. Lyra remained behind to show Brandon the way to the Tower. Brandon chattered on the way up, telling Lyra everything that had been going on in the orphanage since she left.

They finally reached a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress that asked them, "Password?"

"Coming through, coming through!" Percy called from behind the crowd. "The new password's _Fortuna Major_!"

"Oh no," said Neville Longbottom sadly from somewhere at the back of the crowd. He always had trouble remembering the passwords.

Through the portrait hole, Lyra led Brandon over to the couches by the fire. Almost everyone went up to sleep immediately after the feast, but Brandon mentioned he was nervous about the following day, so Lyra gave him a brief summary of what to expect.

After several minutes, she noticed him yawning tiredly, and sent him up to bed with another long hug. Lyra looked around at the nearly empty common room, and sighed contentedly. She was back at Hogwarts, and Brandon was here. Lyra felt she was home at last.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Lyra had an early breakfast before setting off to one of her new classes: Arithmancy. Surprisingly, Hermione was already there when Lyra arrived. Lyra had sworn Hermione had left from breakfast with the boys...

Professor Vector turned out to be very passionate about her subject, but she was also very strict. Her teaching style resembled Professor McGonagall's in a way. Arithmancy involved a great deal of math and numbers, but it was still very interesting. At the end of class, Professor Vector assigned a complicated number chart for homework, which made most of the class groan, but Lyra wasn't too worried. She had faced far worse assignments over the summer.

"Transfiguration's next, right Hermione?" Lyra asked as they were exiting the classroom. There was no answer, and when she looked around, Hermione wasn't there. Lyra could have sworn Hermione had been right behind her just a moment before!

Lyra finally made it to Transfiguration, and sat down next to Harry at the back of the classroom. After a moment, she noticed that most of the class kept shooting furtive glances at Harry. He looked miserable, and she began to wonder what had happened in Divination.

It didn't take long to find out. Professor McGonagall had just transformed herself into a tabby cat right before their eyes, but Lyra was surprisingly the only one to clap.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Everybody's heads turned toward Harry again, but nobody spoke. Lyra looked at him in confusion, but he was avoiding everyone's eyes. Hermione eventually spoke up.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and —"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Lyra stared at her. _Dying_? Someone was _dying_? And what was Hermione saying about Divination? They just had Arithmancy together!

"Me," said Harry, finally.

_What_?! Lyra just stared at him in horror.

"I see," said Professor McGonagall. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues —"

Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney..."

She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

Hermione and Lyra laughed. Not everyone looked convinced, however. Ron still looked worried, and Lavender whispered something about Neville's teacup.

When the Transfiguration class had finished, they joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch.

Lyra sat by Brandon at lunch, and eagerly asked him about his first day.

Brandon looked pale, and was shaking slightly.

"What is it, Brandon?" she asked, gently. "Did something happen? What classes have you had?"

"Charms...that was fun, I guess...then we had Potions..."

"Was Professor Snape mean to you?" Lyra asked quickly. "Because I'll have a talk with him-"

"No, no," Brandon said. "Not to me, personally. I think he recognized me from that time he picked you up from the orphanage...he was mean to the other Gryffindors, though. He called us all 'dunderheads'."

Lyra grinned. "Oh, don't worry. He calls everyone that. I think it's his way of welcoming a new class..."

Brandon looked dumbfounded, but then he brightened and said, "I have Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration this afternoon. Are those any good?"

"Professor Lupin is new, so I'm not sure what his class will be like," she replied thoughtfully. "But McGonagall is strict. I don't think she's ever liked me much..."

"Why?" Brandon asked innocently.

"Oh...it's nothing you need to worry about," Lyra said breezily.

* * *

Lyra was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other. Harry quietly explained their little spat at lunch to Lyra as they walked beside them down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" Hagrid called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it — make sure yeh can see— now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books—"

"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_, which he had bound shut with a length of rope.

"Hasn' — hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"Yeh've got ter _stroke_ 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look —"

He took Lyra's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I — I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Lyra.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Hagrid was looking downcast and Harry wanted Hagrid's first lesson to be a success.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so — so yeh've got yer books an'...an'...now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on..."

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him —"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated.

"Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you —"

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock. Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Lyra had ever seen. They had the bodies of horses, but the heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel beaks and large orange eyes.

Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."

No one seemed to want to. Lyra, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and Lyra had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right — who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Even Lyra had misgivings. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry and Lyra at the same time.

There was an intake of breath from behind them, and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!"

Harry ignored them. Lyra just rolled her eyes. Harry climbed over the paddock fence first, and turned to help Lyra over.

"Right then — let's see how yeh two get on with Buckbeak," Hagrid said.

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed maliciously.

"Easy now, Harry, Lyra," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink...Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at them with one fierce orange eye. "Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it,...now, bow."

They both gave a short bow and then looked up.

The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right — back away, now, easy does it —"  
But then the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, you two!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Harry moved slowly toward the Hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. He beckoned Lyra over, and she did the same thing.

The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.

"Righ' then, Harry, Lyra," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh both ride him!"

This was more than Lyra had bargained for.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that..."

Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto its back. He pulled Lyra up, and Buckbeak stood up. Lyra hesitated a moment before wrapping her arms around Harry's waist.

"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriffs hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of them, Harry just seized the Hippogriff around the neck and they soared upward.

Lyra closed her eyes to keep from looking down. She squeezed Harry around the waist, and tried to take calming breaths as the Hippogriff flapped it's enormous wings.

Buckbeak flew them once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground. She felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground.

"Good work, Harry and Lyra!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Harry hopped off the Hippogriff, and caught Lyra as she jumped down.

"I think I prefer a broomstick," Harry said shakily. Lyra could only nod. She felt too nauseous to say anything.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to, hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it...I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the Hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me — gotta get him outta here —"

Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. As they passed, Lyra saw that there was a long, deep gash on Malfoy's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk.

They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

"That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, wasn't it?" said Ron, looking worried. "Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him..."

They were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there.

"They wouldn't fire him, would they?" said Hermione anxiously, not touching her steak-and- kidney pudding.

"They'd better not," said Ron, who wasn't eating either.

"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," said Harry gloomily.

They went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room after dinner and tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had given them, but Lyra was too distracted to think clearly. She gave up pretty quickly, and went over to introduce Exploding Snap to Brandon. He always loved games, and it made Lyra smile to see him so happy.

* * *

Malfoy didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Lyra's opinion, as though he were the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harry saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.

"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm —"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," Ron hissed at Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked across the table.

"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots."

Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.

Lyra stopped him, and pulled the roots towards her.

"I'll do it. I'm already done with mine," she muttered.

Snape approached their table, stared down at her.

"I believe I asked Weasley to cut those," Snape said. Lyra glared at him, and he turned pale and took a step back. He turned around and went right back to his desk, to Lyra's astonishment.

"What in the world-" Lyra muttered to herself.

"Sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry a look of loathing.

Harry skinned the shrivelfig as fast as he could and flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking. Malfoy was smirking more broadly than ever.

Lyra finished up with the roots, and passed them back to Malfoy. Malfoy started taunting the boys about Hagrid, but Lyra tuned it out. She thought back to Snape's reaction. She wondered what she had done to make him look frightened like that...

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape suddenly, ladling some of Neville's potion.

"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, "please, I could help Neville put it right-"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

Hey, Harry," said Seamus Finnigan, leaning over to borrow Harry's brass scales, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

"Where?" said Harry and Ron quickly. On the other side of the table, Malfoy looked up,

listening closely.

"Not too far from here," said Seamus, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?" Malfoy hissed.

"Yeah, that's right," said Harry offhandedly.

Malfoy's thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.

"Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Ron roughly.

"Don't you know, Potter?" breathed Malfoy, his pale eyes narrowed.

"Know what?"

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry angrily, but at that moment Snape called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's..."

After their cauldrons were cleared away, Snape tested Neville's potion. His frog, Trevor, shrunk back to a tadpole. The Gryffindors burst into applause.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Ron was seething about Snape. He asked Hermione a question, but she disappeared again.

"She was right behind us," said Ron, frowning.

"There she is," said Harry.

Hermione was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand clutched her bag, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of her robes.

"How did you do that?" said Ron.

"What?" said Hermione, joining them.

"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione looked slightly confused. "Oh — I had to go back for something. Oh no —" A seam had split on Hermione's bag. It was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her.

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," said Hermione breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"

"But —" Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the covers.

"You haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," said Hermione vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same. "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," she added, and she marched off towards the Great Hall.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" Ron asked Harry and Lyra.

Lyra remembered Hermione's sudden disappearance after Arithmancy the first day back, and couldn't help but agree.

* * *

Professor Lupin wasn't there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

Lyra put her book away excitedly. Brandon had mentioned that he thought Professor Lupin was a good teacher, but he hadn't elaborated any further.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin —"

To Lyra's surprise, Professor Lupin was smiling at the Poltergeist.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely."  
He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "Waddiwasi!" and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?" They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in.

As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."

He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Neville went scarlet. Lyra glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.

Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Neville's face went, if possible, even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice."

"So, does anyone know what a Boggart is?"

Hermione put up her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the

Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

"Er — because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Professor Lupin. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.

"We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please...Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

"I didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully.

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Lyra, however, was furious. A teacher shouldn't be someone's worst fear. She would have to have a talk with her godfather about the way he treated Neville...

Professor Lupin looked thoughtful.

"Professor Snape...hmmm...Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er — yes," said Neville nervously. "But — I don't want the Boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville looked startled, but said, "Well...always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress...green, normally...and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"A big red one," said Neville.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Neville uncertainty, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry 'Riddikulus' — and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

There was a great shout of laughter. Lyra gulped nervously. If this got back to Snape...

The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..."

The room went quiet. Lyra thought...What scared her most in the world?

She thought of trolls, three-headed dogs, and Basilisks, but she had faced each of those creatures and lived to tell the tale, so perhaps those wouldn't be her biggest fear.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

Lyra felt a lurch of fear. She wasn't ready. But she didn't want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves.

"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward...Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot —"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One — two — three —now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R — r — Riddikulus!" squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag. There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted.

"Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising —

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face — a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made the hair on Lyra's head stand on end —

"Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then —crack!- became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before —crack! — becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. For a moment, Harry thought Ron had frozen. Then — "Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over.

Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Lyra's feet. Her heart pounded wildly.

Crack!

A little girl with curly blonde hair, and lively brown eyes. Lyra felt her heart drop. It was Brianna.

Distantly, Lyra could hear the class murmuring in confusion.

"It was _your_ _fault_, Lyra" Brianna hissed. "You could have saved me, but you didn't. I'm dead because of YOU!"

Lyra couldn't breathe. She felt tears streaming down her face.

"Focus, Lyra," Professor Lupin said gently. "It's only a Boggart."

Brianna glared at Lyra accusingly. "You don't even deny it!" she shouted. "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! You promised you'd always have my back, but you just stood there and LET ME DIE!" she shouted. "You're a monster, Lyra...just like your parents!"

Lyra crumpled to the ground, but felt strong arms catch her gently. She was sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Brianna, I'm sorry!" Lyra wailed, hysterically.

"Shh, it wasn't your fault," Harry whispered gently in her ear. "It was only a Boggart, you're okay, you're okay."

Harry held her tightly, and whispered soothingly to her.

Lyra was still shaking, but she stopped herself from crying.

Lyra looked up and noticed a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, "Riddikulus!" almost lazily.

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin.

Crack!

Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

Lyra breathed a sigh of relief, and instantly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her as the entire class turned and stared at her.

"Well-er-perhaps you should escort Lyra to the Hospital Wing, Harry," Professor Lupin said.

Lyra got shakily to her feet, and shook her head.

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "I'm s-sorry," she said, looking at the floor in shame.

"Don't be!" Professor Lupin said. "A lot of people struggle with Boggarts, Lyra. It doesn't mean you're weak...it just means you have worse fears than others..."

Lyra certainly _felt_ weaker than the rest of the class. She completely lost her head!

"Let me see..." Professor Lupin addressed the class. "Five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart — ten for Neville because he did it twice...and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it for me...to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

As the class left the classroom, everyone started talking excitedly.

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

Lyra looked at him, and he turned red. "Oh-er-well, nevermind," he said quickly.

"Lyra?" Lavender called. "I don't mean to pry-you don't have to tell us if you don't want to...but who was that, exactly?"

The rest of the class turned to stare at her again.

Lyra sighed. She supposed she might as well just tell them. Who knew what kind of rumors would spread otherwise.

"You know how I grew up in an orphanage? Brianna was my roommate. We were like sisters; we did everything together," Lyra explained in a detached voice. "Brianna got really sick during my first year at Hogwarts. I begged Professor McGonagall to help her, but she said it was against the Statute of Secrecy. I still snuck out of Hogwarts and took the Knight Bus to the hospital, but by the time I got there, I-I was t-too late," Lyra said sadly.

Harry squeezed Lyra's hand, and the rest of the class gave her pitying looks. Lyra was still shaking, so Harry grabbed her bag along with his, and gently led her back to the Tower.

* * *

Brandon was sitting with some other first years by the window when Harry and Lyra got back to the common room. He jumped up at the sight of her, and rushed over to them.

"Ly? What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Brandon exclaimed.

Lyra shuddered, while Harry looked at Brandon questioningly.

"Oh, Harry, this is Brandon Owens. He lived at the orphanage. He's like a little brother to me," Lyra explained. Harry nodded understandingly.

"Brandon, this is Harry Potter, one of my best friends," Lyra said.

"Are you the boy that Colin Creevey was talking about?" Brandon asked, looking at Harry in awe. "The one who vanquished an evil wizard?"

Lyra grinned at the uncomfortable expression on Harry's face, but told Brandon she would explain all about that at another time. He got the hint, and let the subject drop. Brandon gave Lyra a hug before returning to his friends.

Harry led Lyra over to the couches.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Harry asked her gently. He was sitting very close to her on the couch. She gazed up into his emerald eyes, and Lyra forgot for a brief moment why she was so upset.

"Y-yeah," she eventually replied. "I'll be fine. It was just a shock, seeing Brianna...thank you, by the way."

Harry looked confused. "For what?"

Lyra smiled. "For catching me, and calming me down."

"Right-er-anytime," Harry replied.

They looked at each other for a moment. Harry took Lyra's hand in his. Then he slowly leaned in towards her. Lyra's heart raced. She closed her eyes, and leaned in closer-

"Potter!"

Lyra opened her eyes, and sighed in frustration. Oliver Wood was approaching them. Harry automatically scooted away from Lyra, and looked up at the Quidditch Captain.

"Yes, Oliver?" he sighed.

"I'm going over the new tactical procedures for this year. Be at the Quidditch Pitch tomorrow evening after dinner. You too, Black," he said shortly before walking away.

Not long after, the portrait hole opened to reveal Ron and Hermione in a heated argument, probably about Scabbers and Crookshanks. Lyra sighed, knowing the moment was lost.

* * *

Harry was visibly upset on Halloween. He was not able to get permission to go to Hogsmeade with the rest of them. Lyra resolved to go for a little while, buy some sweets for Harry at Honeydukes, and then return to keep him company. After all, she would have plenty of more opportunities to explore the village.

Hogsmeade was a beautiful little village, with a lot of neat, colorful shops. It reminded her a lot of Diagon Alley. Lyra was amazed at Honeydukes, and went a little overboard. She didn't know what kind of sweets Harry preferred so she bought some of everything.

Ron and Hermione dragged her to the Three Broomsticks, but she only stayed long enough to get two butterbeers before she set off back to the castle. Ron had mentioned they were going to the Shrieking Shack next, so Lyra wasn't really missing out, in her opinion.

Lyra was walking along the trail back to the school when she noticed a stray dog. It was black, scruffy, and very skinny. Lyra pitied the poor thing, and took out an apple she had from breakfast.

"Here, boy," she called out, waving the apple. The dog trotted over to her, and happily accepted the apple.

Lyra spent a few minutes scratching the dog behind the ears before it scampered away.

Filch looked at her suspiciously when she arrived at the castle alone, but Lyra ignored him and went to search for Harry. She eventually found him in the common room doing homework.

"Hey, you," she greeted him cheerfully. "I brought you treats!"

She poured all of the brilliantly colored sweets into his lap, and handed him the butterbeer.

"Wow! Thanks, Lyra!" he exclaimed.

"The butterbeer might be a bit cold," Lyra said apologetically.

Harry beamed. "That doesn't matter," he said with a shrug. "What are you doing back so early? I hope it's not because of me..."

"Hogsmeade isn't all that interesting," Lyra said offhandedly. "What have you been up to? Did you get any work done?" she asked, changing the subject.

"No," said Harry. "Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in..."

He told her about Snape giving Lupin a strange potion.

"Well, Professor Snape brews potions for a lot of people, doesn't he?" Lyra said, nonplussed. It obviously wasn't the reaction Harry was hoping for, and he quickly let the subject drop.

They enjoyed their butterbeer by the fire, and played a game of Exploding Snap. After Lyra beat Harry for the third time, Harry suggested they go for a walk. Lyra agreed, grinning, and the two set off for the lake.

They chatted lightly while they walked around the lake. The weather was beautiful, and the lake glistened in the sun. Harry held her hand, and turned around to face her.

"I really appreciate that you came back early to keep me company," he said, smiling.

Lyra smiled back. "This has been a lot more fun than visiting the Shrieking Shack would have been anyway."

The wind picked up, and Lyra's hair blew into her face. Harry swept it back gently, and brought up his other hand to cup her face. Lyra's breathing sped up, and she slowly took a step closer. She closed her eyes, and felt his breath tickle her face for a brief moment before his lips met hers.

They were both more than a little unsure at first. Then Lyra let instinct take over, and leaned into the kiss. She ran her fingers through Harry's hair, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. Lyra felt as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire.

The kiss ended, and they grinned happily at each other. Harry led her over to one of the trees near the edge of the lake and sat down. She curled up beside them, and they sat together, watching the sun drop lower in the sky.

* * *

At dusk, Lyra glanced at her watch.

"We'd better go back up, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes."

Harry was absentmindedly playing with her hair, and jumped when she spoke.

"Is it really that late? Ron and Hermione are probably looking for us," he said nervously.

"Maybe...maybe we shouldn't tell them just yet," she said slowly. "About us, I mean."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, it might make things weird...we should wait."

They headed back up to the entrance hall, where they met Ron and Hemrione.

"Harry! Lyra! We've been looking for you!" Hermione said anxiously.

"We were outside...getting some fresh air," Lyra explained.

Hermione didn't look entirely convinced, but she silently followed them into the Great Hall.

It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant water snakes.

The food was delicious; even Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything.

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

Lyra, Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password — excuse me, I'm Head Boy —"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Lyra, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, my —" Lyra grabbed Harry's arm.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

* * *

Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron said to Harry, Lyra, and Hermione; they seized four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Ron.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Hermione as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower..."

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

Lyra shuddered.

"Lyra?" She looked up and saw Brandon standing there, looking pale and frightened.

"It's okay, Brandon, we'll be safe in here," Lyra said soothingly. "Why don't you come sleep next to me?" she offered.

Brandon smiled in relief and rolled out his sleeping bag beside her. He curled up quickly, and started snoring softly after only a couple of minutes.

All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"

Lyra tuned out the conversations. She highly doubted Sirius Black could have gotten in the castle by simply flying in or using a disguise...

For some reason, Lyra wondered again why she had the same last name as him. She supposed she could research Sirius Black to see if they were related, but that would be awfully time-consuming. Then it dawned on her who might know, though she doubted he would give her a straight forward answer.

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

Lyra would have to wait for morning then. The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars.

Lyra curled up in her sleeping bag that happened to be right beside Harry's. He shifted slightly so that he was facing her. She smiled at him in the dark, and reached out her hand towards his.

Harry's fingers entwined with hers, Lyra quickly fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

The first Quidditch match was fast approaching, and Harry had training sessions nearly every night. Lyra didn't have to go to them since she was still only a reserve player. She wished she could spend more time with Harry, but, then again, it gave her the time she needed to try to find out more about Sirius Black.

As she expected, the library did not help much. She couldn't find any genealogy books, and she couldn't be bothered to go through all the old Prophets for clues. She was down to her last resort, and grudgingly went to seek out Malfoy.

It didn't take her as long as she thought it would. She had just left the library when she came across Malfoy and his goons looming over a Hufflepuff first year menacingly.

"Terrorizing first years, Malfoy? Will you ever grow up?"

Her arrival distracted the Slytherins long enough to allow the Hufflepuff time to escape.

"What do you want, bloodtraitor?" Malfoy sneered at her.

Lyra rolled her eyes. "I could report you. I'm sure my godfather would give even you detention if I told him you were bullying younger students."

"Do you think I care?" Malfoy blustered, but Lyra could see that he wasn't so sure.

"I'll make a deal. Answer me truthfully about something, and I'll keep quiet," Lyra said.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Fine," he answered eventually. "What do you want to know?"

"Am I related to Sirius Black?" she asked bluntly.

Malfoy stared at her blankly for a moment, before laughing.

"That's it?" he asked. "Wait. You honestly didn't know this whole time?"

"Just tell me, Malfoy," Lyra asked irritably.

Malfoy grinned maliciously. "Oh yes. Our mothers were first cousins to Sirius Black. So including your mother, that makes two deranged convicts you're related to," he said gleefully.

Lyra rolled her eyes, and pushed past the Slytherins. She was grateful Malfoy didn't know who her father was. She would never hear the end of it...

* * *

Harry was drenched in mud and very angry when he returned to the common room that night.

"Bloody Malfoy," he muttered.

Lyra looked up in concern. "What did he do?"

"He's still faking his injury, and now we have to play Hufflepuff on Saturday."

"Sorry to hear that..." Lyra said. She told him about her confrontation with Malfoy earlier.

"So you're related to Sirius Black?" he asked.

"Yes, it seems I'm related to every homicidal lunatic in the wizarding world," Lyra muttered.

Harry tried and failed to stop himself from grinning. Lyra playfully smacked his arm.

"Go take a shower, you're getting mud everywhere!"

* * *

The day of the match, Lyra was woken early from the sound of the thunderstorm. She stumbled sleepily down to the common room, where she was surprised to find Harry pacing in front of the fire.

"Hey," she called to him. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Peeves," he answered darkly. "What about you?"

"Thunderstorm woke me up," she explained.

She sat next to him by the fire, and they talked for a while. After a couple hours, Harry got up to go to breakfast.

"Are you coming?"

"I still have to get dressed," Lyra said.

"Oh...okay, well I guess I'll see you later," he said.

"Wait," Lyra called him back. "This will probably be the only time we'll have alone before the match so...for good luck," she whispered, before stepping close to him, and gently pressing her lips to his.

* * *

The wind howled, and the rain beat down relentlessly as Lyra watched the match from the ground. Lyra could tell Harry couldn't see through the rain. He wasn't moving much, and didn't seem to be searching for the Snitch.

Wood called a time out, and the team gathered on the ground. Lyra got an idea, and rushed over to the huddled group.

"I've had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!" she yelled.

Lyra tapped them with her wand and said, "_Impervius_!"

"There!" she said, handing them back to Harry. "They'll repel water!"

Wood looked as though he could have kissed her.

"Brilliant! Okay, team, let's go for it!"

The match resumed, and Harry was flying a lot better. Lyra's attention shifted to Cedric when he made an abrupt dive up the field.

Then, out of nowhere, a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over her. At least a hundred Dementors swarmed onto the Pitch. Lyra could hear screaming from the stands, and somewhere she could hear the same heart-wrenching sobbing she had heard on the train.

All of a sudden, a huge silvery bird emitted a warm glow onto the Pitch. The dementors started to flee from the brilliant light.

Lyra looked up, and to her horror, saw that Harry had fallen off of his broom.

She screamed his name and saw that he was slowing down. He landed gently on the ground.

Lyra ran over to his crumpled form. He looked okay, but she was still sobbing hysterically by the time the professors and Ron and Hermione had reached them.

Hermione had tear tracks running down her face, while Ron was pale and shaking.

Dumbledore conjured a stretcher for Harry, and sent them all up to the Hospital Wing.

Professor Flitwick followed in, holding a pile of twigs. Lyra gasped, realizing it was Harry's broomstick. He was going to be devastated.

Lyra sat beside him, silently waiting anxiously for him to wake up while the others discussed what had happened.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life," Ron said.

Harry's eyes snapped open. Lyra and the others gasped.

"Harry!" said Fred. "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" he said groggily as he sat up.

"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been — what — fifty feet?"

"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.

"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay? We didn't — lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square...even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" said Harry.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Lyra hated seeing him so upset. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.

"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."

"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.

"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points."

"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin..." "Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw..."

They want analyzing the point totals, but Harry didn't seem to be listening.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace. "We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Lyra, Ron, and Hermione moved nearer to Harry's bed.

"Did someone get my Nimbus?" Harry asked abruptly.

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at each other.

"Er —"

"What?" said Harry, looking from one to the other.

"Well...when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.

"And?"

"And it hit — it hit — oh, Harry — it hit the Whomping Willow."

"And?" he asked nervously.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It — it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Slowly, she reached down for the pile of twigs that had once been Harry's broomstick.

* * *

Harry remained in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the weekend. Lyra visited him every day with Ron and Hermione.

Weeks passed, and people soon moved on from what happened at the match. Harry was still unhappy about his broomstick, but cheered up when Lyra let him use her broom until he could replace his.

Harry told them that Professor Lupin offered to teach him how to fend off Dementors. When Lyra thought about it, she decided that learning how to keep Dementors away might come in handy these days, and wondered if Cedric would teach her.

"I'm afraid I don't know that one," Cedric told her after she caught up with him after dinner one night. "Sorry, Lyra. Could you do me a favor though?"

"Sure, Cedric," Lyra said.

"Can you tell Potter that I really do feel bad about how the last match turned out? I tried to ask for a rematch, but..."

"Oh, Cedric, he knows you didn't mean for that to happen! Besides, everyone knows you won fair and square. But I'll tell him what you said," Lyra assured him.

Lyra decided she would just wait and have Harry teach her once he learned from Professor Lupin.

Christmas decorations were beginning to be put up around the castle. Lyra stayed behind after Potions one day to ask Professor Snape if they were going to Spinner's End or staying at the castle.

"I assumed you would want to spend Christmas with your little friends," Snape said, not unkindly. Lyra smiled. She wouldn't have minded going to Spinner's End, but she really did want to be with her 'little friends'.

To everyone's delight except Harry's, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

"Look to the bright side, Harry," Lyra said one day when they were alone. "We can spend some more time together while everyone's down at Hogsmeade."

Harry smiled sadly. "No, you should go to the village, Lyra. I appreciate that you want to keep me company, but I don't want you to miss out..."

"Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah! Go on, you'll have fun!" he said in a fake cheery voice.

* * *

The morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Lyra sadly waved goodbye to Harry and followed Ron and Hermione down to the village.

After a very long and cold walk, they finally arrived at Honeydukes first. They immediately started looking for sweets they could take back to Harry.

They ended up in front of a tray of blood-flavored lollipops.

"Ugh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione said.

"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.

"Definitely not," said Harry from behind them.

Lyra jumped, and Ron nearly dropped the jar he was holding.

"Harry!" squealed Hermione. "What are you doing here? How — how did you —?"

"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"

"'Course I haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice and told them all about the Marauder's Map.

"How come Fred and George never gave it to _me_!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"

"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"

"No, I'm not!" said Harry.

"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

"Hermione's got a point," Lyra muttered.

"He can't be getting in through a passage," said Harry quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three — one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one I just came through — well — it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar — so unless he knew it was there —"

Ron cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.

**_BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_**

**_Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall._**

**_Merry Christmas!_**

"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but — but —" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. He hasn't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, he'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet — what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"

"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. Harry deserves a break."

Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.

"Are you going to report me?" Harry asked her, grinning.

"Oh — of course not — but honestly, Harry —"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing him and leading him over to their barrel.

* * *

When they had paid for all their sweets, the four of them left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.

"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three

Broomsticks?"

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky.

"I'll get the drinks, shall I?" Ron said, going slightly red as he stared at Madam Rosmerta.

Lyra, Harry, and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.

"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

A sudden breeze ruffled his hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Harry choked on his butterbeer.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak — Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

In an instant, Lyra and Hermione had both placed hands on the top of Harry's head and forced him off his stool and under the table.

The Minister and the professors chose a table that was nearby.

Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"

The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view.

Lyra tuned out their conversation about the dementors. She could hear Harry breathing quickly under the table, and the four of them sat silently, not daring to make the smallest sound.

Suddenly the conversation at the nearby table turned to Sirius Black.

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought...I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall.

"Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Lyra fidgeted nervously.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Harry Potter and Lyra Black remind me of them-"

"Lyra who?" Fudge asked.

"Lyra Black," McGonagall said. "Sirius Black's second cousin, I believe. Best friends with Harry Potter. She's a nice girl, I suppose, but has a certain disregard for the rules..."

Lyra scoffed at that. She didn't break the rules anymore than the other three!

The conversation returned to Sirius Black.

"Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends," Fudge said. "Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear..." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded to explain Sirius Black's betrayal of the Potters. Apparently he had been their Secret-Keeper, and informed Voldemort of their hiding place.

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.

Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew — another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew...that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I — how I regret that now..." She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses — Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later — told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens..."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy...foolish boy...he was always hopeless at dueling...should have left it to the Ministry..."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands — I'd 've ripped him limb — from — limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered..."

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man — cruel...pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them...but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored — asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him — and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his — er — eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing...but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again..."

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared.

"Harry?"

Lyra leaned down to look at him under the table. He stared vacantly, lost for words.

* * *

Harry was quiet all through dinner. Lyra didn't know what to think about what they overheard, but she didn't dare bring it up.

The common room was crowded that night, and Harry quickly disappeared up to the boys' dormitory.

"Go check on him, Ron," Hermione ordered.

Ron came back down a minute later, and just shook his head.

"Are you okay, Lyra?" Hermione turned to her.

"Huh?" Lyra jerked her head. "I'm fine...why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it must have been a shock to find out you're related to Sirius Black!" Hermione explained.

"Oh, I found out about that weeks ago," Lyra said dismissively.

Ron's eyes bulged and Hermione looked shocked.

"But-but why didn't you tell us?" she spluttered. "And don't give me that whole 'I-didn't-want-to-ruin-our-friendship' nonsense you fed us last year..."

Lyra looked down sheepishly.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I honestly forgot about it. I guess knowing that your Voldemort's daughter makes everything else sort of pale in comparison..."

* * *

Lyra slept late the next morning, and woke up to an empty dormitory. The common room was deserted as well. Lyra wondered vaguely where everyone was, but then she remembered that it was the first day of the holidays.

She decided that she would go visit her godfather. She had been meaning to talk to him after all.

The dungeons were chilly, and Lyra pulled her cloak tightly around her as she made her way to Snape's office. She knocked lightly, and waited.

The door creaked open.

"Lyra?" Snape said. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No," Lyra replied. "I just wanted to visit you...are you busy?"

Snape stared at her blankly for a moment before opening the door wider to let her in. It was only the second time she had been in his office. It hadn't changed; still filled with jars of weird potions ingredients.

Lyra sat on the couch by the fireplace.

"Tea?" Snape asked, startling her.

"Oh-no, thank you," Lyra replied.

Snape took a seat in an armchair, and looked at her expectantly.

Lyra bit her lip. "Did you know Neville Longbottom's boggart takes the form of you?" she blurted out.

Snape scowled, and Lyra fidgeted nervously.

"Yes," Snape snapped. "I heard all about that whole _incident_. Why bring it up?"

"I-I just thought maybe...if you were a bit _nicer_ to Neville-"

Snape narrowed his eyes. Lyra could see that she wouldn't get anywhere with that.

"Okay...nevermind..."

Snape looked at her in confusion. "But why bring it up? I didn't think you were good friends with Longbottom."

"I'm not, really," Lyra tried to explain. "But I hate seeing you be so mean to him. After what my mother did to his parents...I don't know. I feel bad seeing him so upset during Potions. And the fact that you're a student's worst fear does not look good for you, either..."

Snape's face was a carefully concealed mask, so Lyra couldn't be sure if she had gotten through to him or not.

"Don't feel like you have to atone for your parents' sins, Lyra," he said eventually. "The past is the past; it's not your fault and there is nothing you can do to change it."

Lyra nodded understandingly. Snape asked about her classes, and they talked for a while about nothing important. Eventually Snape said he needed to get back to work, which Lyra understood as a dismissal. She bid her godfather goodbye, surprising him with a hug.

"Thanks," she said softly, before leaving Snape's office. He gave her one of his rare smiles, and invited her to come back any time she wanted to talk.

It made Lyra feel happy and so grateful that she had a godfather she could trust and rely on. She felt bad for Harry, whose godfather was a homicidal convict.

* * *

Christmas passed quietly, except that Harry mysteriously received a Firebolt. Hermione was not pleased about it, and privately told Lyra that she thought the broom might have been sent to Harry by Sirius Black. Lyra thought that it was possible, but she also pointed out there were a number of cheaper things Black could curse and send Harry. Hermione ignored Lyra after that.

Christmas lunch was pleasant. There was a single table since so few people stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays. Lyra sat beside her godfather with Harry on her other side. Professor Trelawney made an appearance. It was the first time Lyra met the Divination professor, and she found her rather strange. When Harry, Ron, and Lyra got up first, she shrieked about one of them dying. Yes, Professor Trelawney was definitely strange.

When they returned to the common room, it was only a few moments before Professor McGonagall showed up and confiscated Harry's Firebolt.

* * *

Ron and Harry were angry at Hermione for telling McGonagall about the broom. Hermione was mad at them for not taking the threat of Black seriously enough. Lyra was irritated with all of them for getting so worked up over a bloody broomstick.

Classes resumed, and Lyra was happy to see that Professor Snape was - well, not _nicer _- but less mean to Neville. She supposed she did get through to him, after all! Arithmancy and Ancient Runes were getting a lot harder. Lyra didn't know how Hermione managed to get all the work done. She could see the stress was getting to Hermione. On top of all that, the boys still hadn't made up with Hermione. Lyra was getting tired of having to split up her time evenly between them. Even worse, Hermione was clearly upset about the fight. More than once, Lyra walked in on Hermione crying in the dormitory.

"Please, Harry, it was just a broomstick. Hermione's your _friend_," Lyra pleaded one day when they had a rare moment together alone.

Harry looked uncomfortable. "I know, Lyra, it's just-why did she have to interfere? Now we're going to be crushed by Ravenclaw on Saturday!"

"Boys," Lyra muttered. "Is Quidditch all you care about?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. He leaned down to try to kiss her, but she dodged it.

"Not until you make up with Hermione," she said, grinning.

"Aw, come on, Lyra. That's not fair!"

* * *

Harry got the Firebolt back from McGonagall the next day, and Lyra was happy to see the three of them finally make up. Until Ron came down from the dormitory yelling about Crookshanks eating Scabbers.

Lyra sighed, and returned to her homework. She would just have to let them make up on their own. She hoped, for her sanity, it wouldn't take too long.

* * *

On Saturday morning, the whole school was excited for the upcoming Quidditch match. The weather was nice and clear as the Gryffindor Quidditch team marched out onto the field. As Lyra went to stand with the other reserve players, she noticed Harry do a double take when he saw the pretty Ravenclaw Seeker. She clenched her fists, and glared at the girl, not that the Ravenclaw noticed.

Lee Jordan began his usual commentary, only this time he was focused on the Firebolt. Honestly, it was like he was paid to advertise them or something.

Harry suddenly dove for the Snitch, but a Bludger made him veer off course.

He circled around the field for a while before he dove after it again. He didn't see the three hooded figures near the end of the field. Lyra squinted at them. She could tell they weren't really dementors, but Harry obviously couldn't from so far above. He drew out his wand, and shot a silvery animal at the hooded figures.

A second later, Harry's hand closed around the Golden Snitch. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and Lyra raced towards Harry.

The Gryffindor team came down in a confused huddle. Lyra pushed through to Harry, and she was in his arms. He spun her around, and laughed in exhilaration. She raked her fingers through his hair, and kissed him deeply.

They broke apart and saw that a crowd now surrounded them. The Weasleys twins were whistling and catcalling.

Lyra grinned at Harry, and watched as he was engulfed by the crowd.

"Yes!" Ron yelled, yanking Harry's arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"

"Well done, Harry!" said Percy, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me —"

"Good for you, Harry!" roared Seamus Finnigan.

"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.

Professor Lupin led Harry out of the crowd. Ron and Lyra followed them. She heard Lupin tell Harry, "You gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright."

Lyra stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

Ron doubled up with laughter as they watched Malfoy fighting to extricate himself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.

"Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said Harry. He grabbed Lyra's hand. They and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet robes, out of the stadium and back up to the castle.

It felt as though they had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

Harry took Lyra in his arms again, and kissed her.

"Enough of that!" Ron said, making his way to them. He was grinning. "I should have seen this coming. But, hey, congratulations!"

Harry grinned, and they had all had a butterbeer. As Harry and Ron analyzed the match, Lyra went to find Hermione. She was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_.

"Hermione?"

She looked up and glared at Lyra.

"What's wrong?" Lyra asked.

"Oh nothing," Hermione spat. "Is there anything _else_ you would like to mention, though?"

"What do you mean?" Lyra asked, completely bewildered.

Hermione slammed the book shut. "I suppose I'm a bit annoyed that I'm always the last to know anything about you. _First_, you waited for _months_ to tell us that you're You-Know-Who's daughter, _then_, you don't even care to mention that you're related to Sirius Black, and today, I got to find out that my best friends are _dating_ at the same time as _everyone else in the bloody school_! You never tell us anything! Do you not trust me or something?"

Lyra took a step back in shock. She had not expected an outburst like this form Hermione, but, in a way, Lyra knew she kind of deserved it.

"I-I'm sorry, Hermione, okay? I just-we didn't want to-I didn't know how to tell you!" Lyra stuttered.

Harry must have noticed Lyra had left, and he made his way over to them. Hermione saw him coming, and disappeared up to the dormitory.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked.

"She's mad I that I keep stuff from her," Lyra explained. "She has a point, too. We should have told them sooner."

"Well, I don't think it was anyone else's business, really," Harry said.

They stood there quietly for a moment.

"Do you think she even went to the match?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure she did," Lyra said. "She seems really stressed out about school work, though. She's up late doing homework almost every night. She hardly sleeps. I think her extra classes are getting to her."

"I guess we should try to be a little more patient with her," Harry suggested.

Lyra nodded, and they quickly returned to the party. It continued until one in the morning when McGonagall showed up to insist they all go to bed.

Lyra was tired, but she really didn't want to face Hermione at the moment. She curled up on one of the armchairs by the fireplace, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

"AAARRGGHH! NOOO!"

Lyra sat up, and looked around wildly. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was, but then she sprang up and looked around for whoever screamed.

Coming down from the boys' dormitories, covered in filth, was Sirius Black.

Lyra tried to scream, but could hardly make a sound. They stared at each other for a moment, before Lyra pulled out her wand.

"Don't move!" she yelled, hoarsely.

Black held up his hands in a surrender gesture. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, creeping closer. All of a sudden, he lunged at Lyra, and pulled her wand from her grasp. She screamed, but it was cut short when he aimed his wand at her and she fell unconscious.


	11. Chapter 11

Lyra's head was pounding. She tried to sit up, but pain shot through her entire body.

"Easy there, lay back down," a gentle voice said. "That's it, just relax."

She couldn't remember what happened. She just knew she had felt afraid. Lyra tried to sit up again with a little more success, and blinked her eyes a few times. The only thing she could see was darkness. After a moment, her eyes adjusted, and she could see the dark outlines of rock surrounding her. Was she in a cave of some sort?

She felt like she was missing something. She felt around her neck, and sure enough her locket was gone. She remembered seeing Sirius Black, and the fight in the common room. She must have lost her locket in the struggle. The embarrassingly _short_ struggle. Cedric would be absolutely disgusted at how quickly she was overcome by a wandless lunatic.

"Thank Merlin you're awake, I was getting worried."

Lyra jumped at the voice, and looked up. Looming over her was Sirius Black. She gasped and tried to scramble backwards, but there was a wall of rock behind her.

"You!" she croaked. "You-you kidnapped me! You're going to k-kill me, a-aren't you?"

To her surprise, Sirius Black sighed and took a seat opposite her. "No. You don't understand. Can I try to explain-"

"NO! I know what you did! You killed thirteen people, and betrayed Harry's parents!"

Sirius looked up at her in confusion. "You know Harry?" he asked softly. "What's your name?"

"You - that's none of your - it doesn't really matter, does it? If you're just going to kill me!" Lyra shouted. She started coughing. Sirius handed her a flask of what was presumably water, but Lyra just scooted away from him in fear.

Sirius set the flask down, and said in a defeated sort of tone. "It's not poison, you know. I have no intention of killing you, or hurting you at all."

"Then give me back my wand!" Lyra demanded.

"Can I please explain everything first? Then I'll give it back. You really don't understand what happened. No one does. I never got a trial; they just sent me straight to Azkaban," he said with a shudder.

Lyra didn't really want to listen to a madman's life story, but she wouldn't get her wand back unless she did, so she nodded in resignation for him to begin.

Sirius took a deep breath. "Okay, it all started with a traitorous little rat called Peter Pettigrew..."

* * *

The common room was lit with the glow of the dying fire, still littered with the debris from the party. It was deserted.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?" Harry asked.

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

"What's all the noise?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"

A few of the girls had come down their staircase, pulling on dressing gowns and yawning. Boys, too, were reappearing.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" said Fred Weasley brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pajamas as he spoke.

"Perce — Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

The common room went very still.

"Nonsense!" said Percy, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ron — had a nightmare—"

"I'm telling you —"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare —"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw —"

Glaring suspiciously at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You — you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But — but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper! Came back out a few moments later carrying a fair maiden over his shoulder. I figured he was rescuing her. She didn't look well. I do hope she recovers soon!"

"A - a girl? He had a _student_?!" Professor McGonagall shrieked.

Everyone in the common room looked around, trying to figure out who had been kidnapped.

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.

"All the girls line up by year. We need to figure out who-"

It took several minutes to wake up all the girls and line them up in the common room. Harry scanned the row of third years. He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Hermione, but it quickly turned to panic when he couldn't spot Lyra.

Harry saw Brandon Owens, the boy from Lyra's orphanage, kneeling in front of the fireplace with tears running down his face. He went over to the small boy and knelt down beside him.

"Brandon?" he asked softly.

Brandon held up a familiar locket. Harry never saw Lyra without it.

"Has anyone seen Miss Black?" Professor McGonagall addressed the whole common room.

"She never came up to bed," Lavender Brown said shakily.

Brandon approached McGonagall. "I - I found this," he said, holding up the locket, "by the fireplace. It's Lyra's."

Professor McGonagall conjured a picture of Lyra with her wand, and showed it to Sir Cadogan.

"Is this the girl you saw?" Professor McGonagall asked. The common room was silent.

"Indeed, that was, m'lady," Sir Cadogan replied.

Brandon let out a wail of despair. Harry dropped to his knees, and held his head in his hands. He felt someone - probably Ron - place a hand on one of his trembling shoulders.

It reminded him of the horror and sadness of finding Lyra petrified the previous year. But that was different. Harry knew she would be restored by the Mandrakes. This time, Lyra was probably dead.

* * *

"...so, you're telling me that Professor Lupin is a werewolf, Peter Pettigrew is an illegal animagus who has been masquerading as Ron's pet rat for the past twelve years, and he was the one responsible for betraying the Potter's and killing all those muggles?" Lyra summed up.

"Basically," Sirius Black said, grinning.

"How - and you expect me to believe - ?"

"I know I don't have any evidence - at the moment - to back it up, but once I get my hands on Pettigrew, I'll prove it to you."

Lyra just shook her head in disbelief. "You're absolutely mad," she said, "...so that probably makes me mad for believing you..."

Sirius's face lit up. "You believe me?"

"Well, you haven't hurt me, and you didn't hurt Harry tonight...your story makes sense, so...yeah, I suppose I believe you," Lyra said thoughtfully.

"Excellent!" Sirius said. "Do you have any idea where Pettigrew might be? He wasn't with the Weasley boy..."

Lyra frowned. "No, Ron seems to believe Crookshanks ate him."

Suddenly, Lyra heard a soft '_meow_,' and saw the bright beady eyes of Crookshanks.

"Wait...the cat is in on this?" Lyra asked in disbelief.

Sirius laughed. "That's one smart cat, let me tell you. She knew what that rat really was from the beginning. She's been helping me try to capture Pettigrew, but we haven't had any luck."

"I don't believe it," Lyra said, shaking her head.

"Hang on, I suppose you'll be wanting this back?" Sirius asked, tossing her wand back to her.

"Thanks," she said.

Sirius looked at her curiously. "I remembered you from a few months back when you gave me an apple down by Hogsmeade."

"I remember that!" Lyra said.

"...but I still don't know who you are. What's your name?"

"Lyra," she said hesitantly. "Lyra Black."

Sirius looked confused. "Huh?"

"I'm your cousin," she explained, smiling.

Sirius still looked confused. "My cousin? You aren't Andromeda's daughter, are you? But I thought she was older..."

"I don't know who that is," Lyra said. "My mother is Bellatrix."

Sirius looked at her aghast. "B-Bella had a _daughter_? Oh, Merlin!"

Lyra fidgeted uncomfortably. "I'm nothing like her, you know. I'm not crazy or evil, and I'm even in Gryffindor!"

Sirius laughed. "Oh, I can see that you're not like her at all. It's absolutely hilarious. If Bella knew her daughter was in Gryffindor..." he broke off laughing. Lyra smiled in spite of herself.

After Sirius stopped chuckling, he eventually asked her who her friends were. "You mentioned you knew Harry..." he said.

Lyra smiled and nodded.

"You're blushing!" cried Sirius. "Perhaps you two are _more_ than friends?"

Lyra briefly told him of her friends, and that she and Harry had been together since Halloween.

That's when she suddenly realized something.

"Oh no," Lyra said softly.

"What's wrong?"

"Harry...my friends...they probably think you've murdered me..."

* * *

No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. They knew that the castle was being searched again, and the whole House stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught. Professor McGonagall came back at dawn, to tell them that he had again escaped. They had found no sign of Lyra.

Brandon was inconsolable. He had to be taken to the Hospital Wing for Calming Droughts and Dreamless Sleep Potions.

Harry cried for a good two hours. He spent the rest of the night gazing vacantly into the fire. Just a few hours ago, he had held Lyra in his arms. He had twirled her around, and kissed her passionately. Now she could very well be dead.

Harry studied the Marauder's Map for Lyra, but he finally had to admit that she wasn't there. Harry informed Fred and George that he planned to hand in the Map the next morning. He should have done it ages ago. If he had just turned in the stupid map, Lyra might still be here.

Breakfast the next morning was grim. The Gryffindor table was silent. The other Houses looked frightened more than anything. People kept shooting Harry pitying looks.

Professor Snape was not present at the staff table. Someone mentioned that he searched the castle for Lyra all night, well after the other professors had given up. Even now, he was apparently patrolling the corridors, yelling at students that looked too cheerful.

Harry played with his food absentmindedly. After a while, he slowly got up from the table, and headed to the staff table. He decided to turn in the map to Professor Lupin, since he would hopefully be the most understanding.

He was almost to the staff table when a loud, resounding knock sounded from the Entrance Hall.

* * *

Lyra tried to wipe the sweat from her palms off on her robes. Her heart was racing as she walked up the same path she had taken when going to Hogsmeade. As it turned out, Sirius had been hiding out in the caves beyond Hogsmeade.

Lyra was incredibly nervous as she climbed the steps up to the castle. She was going to have to lie _a_ _lot_ in the coming weeks if she wanted to find Pettigrew and prove Sirius's innocence.

She took a deep breath before raising her fist to the large, double doors that led to the Entrance Hall.

_Knock, knock._

She had to wait a few minutes before the doors slowly creaked open, and she found herself at the other end of three wands.

Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick stared warily at her for a moment.

"Lyra," Dumbledore abruptly addressed her. "Back in your first year, what did I say to you about the Sorcerer's Stone?"

What did that have to do with anything? Lyra racked her brains to try to remember.

"Er - that it wasn't such a great thing. Something about humans choosing what is worst for them, I think..." Lyra said, completely bewildered.

Dumbledore simply smiled, and lowered his wand. "I just had to check that you were, in fact, Lyra."

The other professors moved to the side, and let Lyra into the castle.

"I dare say you've had a lot of people worried about you," Dumbledore said. "I am happy that you are back with us."

"LYRA!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Brandon engulfed her in a big hug.

"Oh Lyra, I'm so sorry," Hermione cried.

"I can't believe you're alive!" Ron yelled.

"I thought you were dead!" wailed Brandon.

"Ow - can't breath!" Lyra spluttered.

Ron, Hermione, and Brandon took a step back. Harry hugged her and twirled her around. "I'm so glad you're safe," he whispered into her hair.

A whole crowd of students had come out of the Great Hall. They all started cheering when they saw Lyra.

"Lyra."

She turned and saw Professor Snape staring at her in obvious relief. He strode towards her, pushed Harry out of the way, and picked her up in a hug.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, young lady," he growled before releasing her.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I suggest we go to the Hospital Wing now. Poppy will want to look over you, and I will need you to tell me what happened."

Lyra nodded and followed the Headmaster to the infirmary.

* * *

Lyra and Sirius had decided that Lyra would try to pass off amnesia. She hoped that Dumbledore would buy it, but then again, was it even possible to lie to Dumbledore?

"So what do you remember, Lyra?" Dumbledore asked gently. It was only him and Professor Snape. Harry had tried to come in too, but Madam Pomfrey had put her foot down.

"Not much," Lyra said in what she hoped was a casual voice. "I was exhausted after the party and fell asleep in the common room. I woke up to a shout. Sirius Black came down from the boys' dormitories. I was half asleep, but I remember him coming at me and taking my wand. He pointed it at me and I fell unconscious."

"What happened next?" Dumbledore prompted delicately.

"I don't know," she lied. "I woke up in the outskirts of Hogsmeade this morning."

"You don't remember anything else?" Professor Snape asked.

"No."

* * *

Madam Pomfrey released Lyra later that day. She was welcomed back like a celebrated war hero. Everyone flocked to her side to hear what happened. Ron was sharing in the attention, but unlike Lyra, he seemed to enjoy the spotlight.

Neville was in total disgrace. Word got out that he was the one who left the week's passwords lying around. Professor McGonagall was so furious with him she had banned him from all future Hogsmeade visits, given him a detention, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Neville was forced to wait outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him.

"Lyra?" Hermione asked timidly one night. "I just wanted to say that I'm really, really sorry for fighting with you that night. The things I said were uncalled for, and I-"

Lyra jumped up, and hugged Hermione. "No, Hermione, I deserved it. I'm sorry for always keeping things form you."

Hermione sniffed. "I feel like I've lost Ron and Harry now, they hate me. And when you were k-kidnapped, I couldn't bear the thought of losing you too!"

"They _do not_ hate you, Hermione. All you've done is try to keep them safe. They'll realize that eventually, but it might take a while. Boys are idiots."

Hermione let out a strangled laugh. "Yeah, they are," she agreed.

* * *

Lyra spent the rest of the week furiously searching for Pettigrew. She snuck into the boys' dormitory during dinner, and upturned every bed, but it was no use. Pettigrew was nowhere to be found. She thought the Map might help, but she didn't really have a plausible reason for asking Harry to borrow it, and she couldn't bring herself to steal from him. Not even for this.

Saturday was a Hogsmeade weekend. Lyra was going to go buy as much food as she could and sneak it to Sirius, but Snape intercepted her on the way out of the castle.

"I'm taking back my permission to let you go to Hogsmeade," Snape informed her.

"What? Why? I haven't done anything wrong!" Lyra replied indignantly.

"I'm sorry this may seem like a punishment for you, but I am merely trying to keep you safe."

And with that, Snape took her arm and led her back up to the Tower. She knew Snape was just trying to protect her, but she felt bad knowing that Sirius was surviving on rats and there was nothing she could do.

As they rounded a corner, they came across Harry and Neville, who squeaked in fear at the sight of Snape.

"And what are you two doing here?" said Snape, coming to a halt and looking from one to the other. "An odd place to meet —"

"We're not — meeting here," said Harry. "We just — met here."

"Indeed?" said Snape. "You have a habit of turning up in unexpected places, Potter, and you are very rarely there for any good reason...I suggest the pair of you return to Gryffindor Tower with Lyra, where you belong."

Lyra, Harry, and Neville set off without another word.

"Why aren't you going to Hogsmeade, Lyra?" Neville asked timidly.

"Snape won't let me," she replied bitterly. Neville looked guilty. He probably blamed himself for Black getting in, so Lyra tried to smile at him in a reassuring way.

"I don't blame you, Neville, it was an accident," she said softly. In reality, it wasn't an accident at all. Sirius told her that Crookshanks stole the passwords off of Neville's bedside table. She felt really bad for all the punishments he had unfairly received.

They arrived at the common room. Harry said he had to go to the library. Lyra went to get her books from her dormitory before she sat down at one of the tables and started working on a vampire essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Oh, are you doing that too?" Neville asked, looking at her hesitatingly.

Lyra smiled. "Yeah, do you want to work on it together?"

Neville brightened. "Sure! Just let me get my things!"

* * *

Lyra and Neville finished the essay and were playing Exploding Snap when Hermione came over looking upset.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Lyra asked.

She was holding a letter in her hands and her lip was trembling. "I just thought you ought to know...Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed."

"Oh no..." Lyra said.

"There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope...Nothing will have changed," Hermione said.

Lyra got up and hugged Hermione. "We'll think of something..." she said, but she didn't really know what they could possibly do to help Buckbeak.

Although it was tragic, Buckbeak's grim fate caused one good outcome. Harry and Ron finally made up with Hermione.

* * *

Time passed with no progress in finding Pettigrew. Lyra didn't want to admit that he was probably dead, but she couldn't fathom where he was hiding. She combed the common room, earning many strange looks in the process, and she even kept an eye out in the corridors, but no luck.

The final Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was coming up, which meant that the whole school was on edge. Fights broke out in the corridors, and Harry was shepherded around to all of his classes on Wood's orders.

Lyra would be glad when the whole thing was over.

The day before the match, Lyra received a note from Sirius.

**_Meet me at midnight at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. _**

**_-Padfoot_**

Lyra quietly snuck out of the dormitory at a quarter to midnight. She was lucky enough not to come across anyone on the way down. The night air was cool and dry. Lyra kept to the trees, and looked for Sirius.

She spotted Crookshanks prowling nearby.

"Sirius?" she whispered.

"You came!"

She turned around and saw him a little ways in the woods.

"Have you seen the rat?" he asked excitedly.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm really trying, but...maybe he's dead..."

"He's not dead," Sirius said shortly. "Don't give up, he's around here somewhere."

Lyra nodded.

Lyra gave Sirius some food she had managed to sneak away from dinner. He looked delighted and they talked for a few minutes before Lyra said that she needed to get back.

Sirius transformed into a dog, and walked beside Lyra out of the forest. She kept her hood up in case anyone in the castle was looking down. They walked in and out of the trees. When they got to the end of the trees, Padfoot and Crookshanks disappeared into the forest.

Lyra made it up to the common room, finding no obstacles in her way. She fell into a restless sleep, filled with dreams of a filthy rat scuttling away in the night.

* * *

The following day's Quidditch match was the dirtiest one Lyra had ever seen. Both teams were making deliberate fouls that were almost too painful to watch. Lyra held her breath every time a Slytherin player got close to Harry.

Gryffindor was in the lead and sixty points up when Harry started racing after the Snitch. He was so close, then, out of nowhere, Malfoy grabbed onto Harry's broom. The stadium erupted with screams of frustration.

A few minutes later, however, Harry and Malfoy were racing after the tiny golden Snitch again. Harry spotted it late, but his Firebolt quickly caught up to Malfoy's, and he grabbed the Snitch.

Waves of Gryffindor supporters were pouring onto the field. Lyra beamed at Harry, and watched as the whole team was hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Dumbledore passed the Cup to a sobbing Oliver Wood. The whole team grasped it and lifted it into the air in triumph.

* * *

Harry didn't stop smiling for a week after the Quidditch Cup. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry. Harry and Lyra spent several hours together strolling the grounds, drinking iced pumpkin juice, and kissing under the shade of a nice birch tree by the lake.

Too soon, however, they had to start studying for exams. Lyra knew that she did rather well in Potions, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now that she knew what to expect, her boggart didn't scare her as much, though it left her feeling a bit depressed.

After her last exam, she met Ron and Hermione in the common room. They both looked upset.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Just then, Harry rushed in.

"Professor Trelawney," Harry panted, "just told me —"

But he stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.

"Buckbeak lost," said Ron weakly. "Hagrid's just sent this."

Hagrid's note was dry this time, no tears had splattered it, yet his hand seemed to have shaken so much as he wrote that it was hardly legible.

**_Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it._**

**_Hagrid_**

"We've got to go," said Harry at once. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," said Ron, who was staring out the window ill a glazed sort of way. "We'd never be allowed...'specially you, Harry..."

"If we only had the Invisibility Cloak..." Harry said.

"Where is it?" said Hermione.

Harry told her about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.

"...if Snape sees me anywhere near there again, I'm in serious trouble," he finished.

"That's true," said Hermione, getting to her feet. "If he sees _you_...How do you open the witch's hump again?"

"You — you tap it and say, '_Dissendium_,'" said Harry. "But —"

Hermione didn't wait for the rest of his sentence; she strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait and vanished from sight.

"She hasn't gone to get it?" Ron said, staring after her.

She had. Hermione returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under her robes.

"Hermione, I don't know what's gotten into you lately!" said Ron, astounded. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney —"

Hermione looked rather flattered.

They went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to Gryffindor Tower afterward. They skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until they were sure it was deserted. They heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming. Hermione poked her head around the door.

"Okay," she whispered, "no one there — cloak on —"

Walking very close together so that nobody would see them, they crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees.

They reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and they stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the cloak.

Hagrid looked like a man who did not know where he was or what to do. Lyra couldn't stand to see him like this.

"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" said Hermione hesitantly.

"I — I took him outside," said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug.

"He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an' — an' smell fresh air — before —"

Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.

"I'll do it, Hagrid," said Hermione quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore —"

"He's tried," said Hagrid. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared...Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like... threatened 'em, I expect...an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's...but it'll be quick an' clean...an' I'll be beside him..."

Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.

"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it — while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter — ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore..."

Hermione, who had been rummaging in Hagrid's cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. She straightened up with the new jug in her hands, fighting back tears.

"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," she began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy head.

"Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway...If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble."

Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione's face, but she hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as she picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, she let out a shriek.

"Ron, I don't believe it — it's Scabbers!"

Ron gaped at her.

"WHAT?" Lyra cried. All this time she had been looking for Pettigrew in the castle, and he had been here? She couldn't believe it!

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, giving Lyra a suspicious glance.

Hermione carried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic

squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.

"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?"

He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light.

"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

"Give me that rat, Ron," Lyra said softly. She was eyeing Pettigrew with distaste.

Ron looked at her like she was crazy. "What's wrong with you?"

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment.

"They're comin'..."

Lyra, Harry, Ron, and Hermione whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.

"Yeh gotta go," said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here...Go now..."

Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the cloak. "I'll let yeh out the back way," said Hagrid.

They followed him to the door into his back garden.

Hagrid turned to Lyra, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Go on," he said. "Get goin'."

But they didn't move.

"Hagrid, we can't —"

"We'll tell them what really happened —"

"They can't kill him —"

"Go!" said Hagrid fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

They had no choice. As Hermione threw the cloak over Harry and Ron, they heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where they had just vanished from sight.

"Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don' listen..."

And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door.

Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, Lyra, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off silently around Hagrid's house. As they reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it..."

They started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged gray, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.

Ron stopped dead.

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione began.

"It's Scabbers — he won't — stay put —"

"Do not let that rat go, Ron!" Lyra said desperately. The others eye her suspiciously.

Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.

"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.

They heard a door open behind them and men's voices.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Okay — Scabbers, stay put —"

They walked forward; Lyra, like Hermione, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Ron stopped again.

"I can't hold him — Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us —"

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

Hermione swayed on the spot.

"They did it!" she whispered to them. "I don't believe it — they did it!"

* * *

The four of them stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind them, they heard a wild howling.

"Hagrid," Harry muttered. He made to turn back, but both Lyra and Hermione seized his arms.

"We can't," said Ron, who was paper-white. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him..."

Hermione's breathing was shallow and uneven.

"How — could — they?" she choked. "How could they?"

"Come on," said Ron, whose teeth seemed to be chattering.

They set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep themselves hidden under the cloak.

The light was fading fast now.

By the time they reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them.  
"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!"

"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute —"

"He won't — stay — put —"

"What's the matter with him?" Harry asked.

Lyra was upset about Buckbeak, but she knew she had to focus on getting the rat. She had hoped to be able to sneak Pettigrew away from Ron, but it looked like she would just have to grab the rat and run for it.

Lyra saw Crookshanks slinking towards them. She caught the cat's eyes, and they silently agreed.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"

The cat was getting nearer — Lyra ducked out from beneath the cloak and crept up behind Ron -

"Scabbers-ARRGGHH"

Lyra took a running leap at Ron, and tackled him to the ground. Crookshanks pounced at the same time, both of them going for Pettigrew.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL, LYRA-" Ron shouted.

"GOTCHA!" Lyra yelled, her hands around Pettigrew. The rat bit down on her hand.

"Ouch!" she shouted, accidentally letting go. Pettigrew hit the ground, and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, Lyra closely following.

"Scabbers!" Ron cried, running after them.

Crookshanks snatched the rat in her mouth, and sprang towards Lyra, but Ron tackled the cat and pulled Scabbers free.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"

What followed was a short, bloody struggle between Lyra, Ron, Crookshanks, and Scabbers.

"Get OFF!" Ron huffed.

Harry and Hermione caught up to them.

"Ron — Lyra - come on back under the cloak —" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore — the Minister — they'll be coming back out in a minute—"

Lyra looked up and saw a familiar black dog. She grinned. Sirius had arrived. He shot forward, knocking Harry over in the process, and grabbed Ron's arm.

"Be gentle!" Lyra shouted, following him. Ron was screaming at the top of his lungs. Sirius dragged him down through a gap between the Whomping Willow's roots. Lyra was almost hit by one of the tree limbs, but she sidestepped it, and followed Ron, Sirius, and Pettigrew down the secret passageway.

* * *

**Author's Note: I probably won't be able to update this for a while. School resumes tomorrow, and with AP exams coming up, I just won't have the time. Sorry to leave it at a sort of cliffhanger, but I hope to update sometime late May. Thanks for reading :)**


	12. Chapter 12

The passageway was very long, and Lyra had to bend over as she raced forwards. Finally, she came out in a very disordered, dusty room. Lyra stretched out her back, and peered around curiously. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

Quietly, Lyra crept up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.

Lyra found Ron in one of the rooms. He was sprawled out on the floor, and groaned in pain. He looked up when she came in, and glared at her.

"What the bloody hell is going on, Lyra?" he snapped.

"Ron, please, let me explain...you don't understand..." Lyra tried to explain.

"You should listen to her," a voice said behind her. She spun around, and saw that Sirius had transformed and was standing near the door.

"S-Sirius Black!" Ron yelled.

Lyra gave Sirius a withering look. "You broke his leg, Sirius! What were you thinking? Now they'll never believe us-"

"YOU'RE HELPING HIM?" Ron roared furiously.

Sirius grimaced. "I didn't mean to hurt him...I was going for Pettigrew..."

"Well, try convincing _him_ that..." Lyra muttered, but she stepped forward and gave her cousin a brief hug. Ron spluttered incoherently. Then there was creaking from downstairs.

"Harry and Hermione," Lyra whispered. The creaking continued until the door suddenly burst open.

Harry and Hermione dashed across the room to Ron. They hadn't even noticed Lyra and Sirius.

"Ron — are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap —"

"What —"

"He's the dog...he's an Animagus. Lyra's helping him."

Harry wheeled around to them. He had an expression that Lyra had never seen on him before. An expression of pure hate. Harry raised his wand-

"_Expelliarmus_!" Lyra yelled.

Harry and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Sirius caught them.

Harry turned to her with a look of utter betrayal that quickly turned to anger.

"What are you doing, Lyra?" he snapped. "This man KILLED my parents!"

"Harry, please, you have to let him explain-"

"EXPLAIN? Explain how he got my parents MURDERED?"

"No-"

"Enough! I can't believe you, Lyra-I trusted you, I _loved_ you, and now-"

Lyra drew in a sharp breath. She tried to fight back tears. "L-love me?" she choked, but no one seemed to hear her.

Ron pulled himself upright and spoke to Sirius.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.

"Lie down," Sirius said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all three of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.

"You're not helping things, Sirius..." Lyra muttered.

"Why's that?" Harry spat at Sirius. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew...What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of Hermione and Ron's restraint and lunged forward —

Lyra screamed and stepped away. One of Harry's hands fastened over Sirius's wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, into the wall —

"STOP! STOP!" Lyra yelled.

Harry was punching every part of Sirius his hands could find.

"No," Sirius hissed, "I've waited too long —"

Sirius grabbed Harry's throat, and Lyra reacted on instinct. She kicked Sirius's hand away, and pulled Harry away.

"Stop it, Sirius!" she cried. "We need to get Pettigrew, not kill Harry in the process!"

Harry shoved her away, and looked at her like she had lost her mind.

Ron suddenly threw himself on Black's wand hand. All the wands clattered to the floor and Harry darted towards his—"

"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry cried, pointing at Lyra. Her wand flew from her hand. She dropped to her knees beside Sirius.

"Get out of the way!" Harry shouted at Ron and Hermione. They quickly scrambled to the other side of the room.

Harry walked slowly nearer to Sirius and Lyra, his wand pointing straight at Sirius's heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" Sirius whispered.

"Harry, if you kill Sirius, you'll be killing an innocent man," Lyra sobbed.

"Be quiet," Harry snapped.

"Harry, this isn't you-"

"SHUT UP, LYRA!" Harry yelled.

He pointed his wand at Sirius's heart. Lyra didn't understand why Sirius wasn't fighting back!

"You killed my parents," said Harry, looking down at Sirius. His voice was shaking slightly, but his wand hand was quite steady.

"I don't deny it," Sirius said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. "You sold them to

Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't...You don't understand..."

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum...trying to stop Voldemort killing me...and you did that...you did it..."

Before either of them could say another word, Crookshanks leapt onto Sirius's chest and settled himself there, right over his heart.

"Get off," Sirius murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black's robes and wouldn't shift. Hermione gave a dry sob.

Harry stared down at the three of them. The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Sirius staring up at him. Lyra was crying softly; Ron was breathing raggedly; Hermione was silent.

And then came a new sound —

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!"

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks. Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, to Lyra, sobbing next to Sirius, and then to Sirius himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Lupin shouted.

Harry's wand, as well as Lyra's, flew out of Harry's hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Sirius.

Lupin spoke, in a very tense voice.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

Very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron.

Ron looked bewildered.

"His rat..." Lyra muttered to clarify.

Lupin nodded in understanding.

"But then...why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless-" Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, "—unless he was the one...unless you switched...without telling me?"

Sirius nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on —?"

Harry trailed off as Lupin walked to Sirius's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet, and embraced him like a brother.

Lyra smiled in relief.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

"You — you —"

"Hermione —"

"– you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down —"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you —"

"Hermione, listen to me, please" Lupin shouted. "I can explain —"

"I trusted you, too!" Harry shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now — Let me explain..."

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he's a werewolf!"

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," Lupin said, calmly. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."

Lupin turned to Lyra. "I suppose Sirius already told you," he stated.

Lyra nodded slowly. "It doesn't matter to me," she said softly.

Lupin blinked and smiled. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Snape will be delighted," said Lupin, addressing Hermione again. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant...Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly.

Lupin forced a laugh.

"You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said Lupin. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf," Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Lupin. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy —"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"

"I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"

He separated Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands and threw each back to its owner; Harry caught his, stunned.

"There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand and Lyra's back into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

"If you haven't been helping him," Harry said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"

Lupin quickly explained how he had been watching the Marauder's Map, and how he saw them exit Hagrid's hut accompanied by someone else.

"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black...I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you."

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise.

Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," Lyra said, exasperated.

"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"

"No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," said Sirius, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

* * *

"You're all mental," Ron stated.

"Ridiculous!" said Hermione faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "Black killed him twelve years ago!"

"I meant to," Sirius growled, "but little Peter got the better of me...not this time, though!"

"Again...not helping, Sirius," Lyra sighed.

"We've got to explain, Sirius—" Lupin said.

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off.

"They've — got — a — right — to — know — everything!" Lupin panted, still trying to

restrain Black. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand, and Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

Sirius stopped struggling, though his eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands.

"All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for..."

"You're nutters, the three of you," said Ron shakily, looking at Harry and Hermione for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him am pushed him back down to the bed. Harry turned to Lupin.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said. "A whole street full of them..."

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" said Sirius, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron's hands.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," said Lupin, nodding. "I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies...Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice.

"But Professor Lupin...Scabbers can't be Pettigrew...it just can't be true, you know it can't..."

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class.

"Because...because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework — the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things...and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list."

Lyra barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Hermione put into her homework, when Lupin started to laugh.

"Right again, Hermione!" he said. "But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," said Sirius, who was still watching Scabbers's every desperate move. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right...but you'll need to help me, Sirius," said Lupin, "I only know how it began..."

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All six of them stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there..."

"This place is haunted!" said Ron.

"It's not," said Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted...The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me. That's where all of this starts — with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten...and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but Lyra shushed him. They were going to hear this explanation whether they wanted to or not...

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite..."

* * *

Lupin's voice was growing weary as he neared the end of the lengthy explanation. He told Harry, Ron, and Hermione how he was too cowardly to tell Dumbledore about Sirius being an illegal Animagus, because he didn't want Dumbledore to know that he betrayed his trust.

"And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" said Sirius harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin slightly puzzled. "He's teaching here as well. I thought Lyra would have told you. He's her Godfather..."

Sirius looked at Lyra in shock.

"Er - forgot to mention it..." Lyra muttered.

Lupin looked up and started explaining how Snape had always been jealous of James Potter. Sirius had tried to trick Snape into going down the Whomping Willow passageway on a night when Lupin transformed, but James saved Snape at the last minute.

"It served Snivellus right," Sirius sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to...hoping he could get us expelled..."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," Harry addressed Lupin, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.

Lyra's Godfather pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.

* * *

Sirius leapt to his feet.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you..."

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a goblet along. And very lucky I did...lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus —" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout—"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this...He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin...a tame werewolf —"

"You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move.

"NO!" Lyra shouted, rushing towards Lupin. "Stop! Please, you have to listen to them-"

Snape pointed his wand at her, and gave her a look of disgust.

"Siding with murderers, Lyra? I had hoped you wouldn't make your parents' mistakes..."

Lyra felt like she was hit with an electric shock. _Did he really just say that?_

With a roar of rage, Sirius started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Sirius's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Sirius stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

Hermione took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape — it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Lyra, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if — if there was a mistake —"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..."

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" — he jerked his head at Ron — "I'll come quietly..."

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay..."

What little color there was in Sirius's face left it.

"You — you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat — look at the rat —"

But there was a mad glint in Snape's eyes that Lyra had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too —"

Lyra pulled the ropes from Snape's hands.

"Lyra-" he growled.

"NO!" she shouted. "If you want Sirius to be Kissed by the Dementors...then you'll have to get through me first!"

She stepped in front of her cousin.

Snape glared at her before turning to Harry, who had blocked the door.

"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin —"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry said. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN —"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

Suddenly, Harry raised his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" he yelled — at the same time as Ron and Hermione. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.

Lyra stood still in shock. She knew she should be upset; Snape was her Godfather, but after what he said...

"You shouldn't have done that," said Sirius, looking at Harry. "You should have left him to me..."

"We attacked a teacher...We attacked a teacher..." Hermione whimpered, staring at the lifeless Snape with frightened eyes. "Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble —"

Lupin was struggling against his bonds. Sirius bent down quickly and untied him. Lupin straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.

"Thank you, Harry," he said.

"I'm still not saying I believe you," he told Lupin.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," said Lupin. "You, Ron— give me Peter, please. Now."

Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest.

"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean..." He looked up at Harry and Hermione for support, "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how's he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said Lupin, turning to Sirius and frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"

Sirius pulled out a Daily Prophet clipping of Ron and his family at Egypt.

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked Sirius, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said Sirius. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy's shoulder...I knew him at once...how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts...to where Harry was..."

"Look, Scabbers has been in my family for ages, right —"

"Twelve years, in fact," said Lupin. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We — we've been taking good care of him!" said Ron.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" said Lupin. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again..."

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" said Ron, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

"This cat isn't mad," said Black hoarsely. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me...Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me..."

"What do you mean?" breathed Hermione.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't...so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me...As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table...I didn't expect Lyra to be downstairs. I had no choice but to disarm her, and take her with me. Thankfully, she listened to my explanation, and started helping me look for Peter..."

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it," croaked Sirius. "This cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets...I supposed he bit himself...Well, faking his own death had worked once."

"And why did he fake his death?" Harry said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," said Lupin, "Harry—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," said Sirius, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Sirius..." Lyra groaned.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted.

"Harry," said Lupin hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down —"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

"Harry...I as good as killed them," Sirius croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me...I'm to blame, I know it...The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies...I realized what Peter must've done...what I'd done..."

His voice broke. He turned away.

"Enough of this. There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked Lupin tensely.

Lyra glared at him furiously. "Ron, for the love of-"

"-Force him to show himself," interrupted Lupin. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.

"Ready, Sirius?" said Lupin.

Black had already retrieved Snape's wand from the bed. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" he said quietly.

"I think so," said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One — two — THREE!"

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly — Ron yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Lyra and Hermione. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow.

Pettigrew groveled pathetically fro several minutes, trying to place blame on the Potters' deaths on Sirius. Lupin asked Pettigrew a few questions, but his guilt was evident. Pettigrew sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said Black, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord...you have no idea...he has weapons you can't imagine...I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —"

"You should have realized," said Lupin quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

"NO!" Harry yelled. He ran forward, placing himself in front Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."

Black and Lupin both looked staggered.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know," Harry panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors...He can go to Azkaban...but don't kill him."

"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You — thank you — it's more than I deserve — thank you —"

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because — I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers — just for you."

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Black. "But think...think what he did..."

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does..." Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him.

"Very well," said Lupin. "Stand aside, Harry."

Harry hesitated.

"I'm going to tie him up," said Lupin. "That's all, I swear."

Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Lupin's wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.

"But if you transform, Peter," growled Black, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Right," said Lupin, suddenly businesslike. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand. Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"What about Professor Snape?" said Lyra in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said Lupin, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. "Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safety back in the castle. We can take him like this..."

He muttered, "_Mobilicorpus_." As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket.

"And two of us should be chained to this," said Black, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," said Lupin.

"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forward.

Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Lupin's right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.

Lyra started after them, but Harry grabbed her arm, keeping her back. He looked miserable.

"What are you-" she said.

"Lyra, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you," Harry said. "I can't even imagine what you must think of me right now, but I swear I'll never doubt you again, I'm so sorry-"

Lyra stepped forward and silenced his apologies with a soft kiss. "Hush," she said gently. "It's my fault, too. I should have told you or tried to explain sooner...I have a bit of a problem with keeping secrets..."

Hermione cleared her throat from behind them. Lyra hadn't noticed she was still in the room, and looked guiltily at her. "Hermione, I-"

"I'm not mad about all this...you couldn't have explained without the rat as proof...but you _do_ tend to keep things from us, Lyra," Hermione said. "I just wish you would trust us a bit more. We're your friends, after all."

Lyra nodded guiltily. "I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled and nodded before following the others that already left down the passageway. Lyra turned back to Harry.

"So," she said thoughtfully. "When you said you loved me...was that-did you mean-"

Harry blushed. "I meant it," he said softly. He took a deep breath. "I love you, Lyra."

Lyra beamed, and threw herself into his arms, kissing him deeply. "I love you too, Harry," she whispered in his ear.

* * *

Getting back down the tunnel was difficult. Harry and Lyra had to run to catch up with the others.

Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron had to turn sideways. Crookshanks was still in the lead. Harry and Lyra went right after Sirius, who was still making Snape drift along ahead of them; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling.

"You know what this means?" Sirius said abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," said Harry and Lyra at the same time. They smiled at each other.

"Yes..." said Black. "But I'm also — I don't know if anyone ever told you — I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Harry.

"Well...your parents appointed me your guardian," said Black stiffly. "If anything happened to them...I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Black. "But...well...think about it. Once my name's cleared...if you wanted a...a different home..."

"What — live with you?" Harry said excitedly. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Sirius quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd —"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Sirius turned right around to look at him; Snape's head was scraping the ceiling but Sirius didn't seem to care.

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

Lyra winced as Snape's head banged against the ceiling again. "Um, Sirius, Professor Snape won't be happy if you give him a concussion..." Lyra muttered.

Sirius lowered his wand just a little. "So, Lyra, I'll extend my invitation to you as well if you don't want to live with this greasy haired prick anymore," Sirius said, pointing to Snape.

Lyra smiled. "I'd like that, but, well, Professor Snape is my legal guardian, and he's not always so awful, really..." she said, though it didn't sound remotely convincing even to her.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say..."

Finally, they were out of the passageway. Lyra stretched her back, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then, a cloud shifted. They were all bathed in moonlight.

Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly. Black froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry, Lyra, and Hermione stop.

Lupin had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

"Oh, my —" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"

"Run," Sirius whispered. "Run. Now."

Harry leapt forward towards Ron, but Sirius caught him around the chest and threw him back.

"Leave it to me — RUN!"

Lyra stumbled backwards.

There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws.

As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other.

"SIRIUS!" Lyra screamed.

The werewolf threw Sirius off, and hurtled straight towards Lyra. She scrambled to her feet, and tried to run, but the werewolf slammed into her. She heard a scream, and a distant howl, before her head knocked into the ground. There was a bright flash and everything went dark.

* * *

Pain shot through Lyra's skull. There were loud noises and bright flashes. She heard indistinct voices arguing, but she couldn't tell what it was about. She just wanted it all to go away. Every noise made her head radiate pain. The voices subsided, and it was silent for a while. She tried to open her eyes, but it felt as though they were glued shut. She groaned, and heard a rustling sound.

"Miss Black?" a voice whispered softly. "Miss Black, please squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

Lyra felt a hand take hers gently, and she gripped it hard.

"Good, now try to open your eyes," the voice instructed.

Lyra tried again and slowly blinked her eyes. Light flooded her vision, and pierced her head. She clutched her skull, and groaned again.

"I know it hurts," the voice that Lyra recognized as Madam Pomfrey said. "You have a very serious concussion. This wasn't the first time you hit your head, so the pain is to be expected..."

Lyra opened her eyes again, blinked a few times, and saw Ron lying motionless on the bed beside hers. Harry and Hermione were looking worn out and nervous. They were both eating chocolate and glancing around nervously.

Lyra's mind was fuzzy, but she knew that something bad had happened. Was Sirius hurt?

"Sirius-" she croaked.

Harry and Hemrione jumped and whipped around to look at her. Harry immediately rushed to her side.

"Lyra," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

"Not really-head hurts a bit-what happened-" she slurred.

Harry took her hand. "It's okay. It's going to be okay," he said, in what would be a reassuring voice if it wasn't trembling nervously.

Madam Pomfrey shoved a few nasty potions down Lyra's throat, and the pain eased up a little.

"Tha's better," Lyra said groggily. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillows.

After a few minutes, there was a distant roar of fury echoing from somewhere above.

"What was that?" said Madam Pomfrey in alarm.

Now they could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Madam Pomfrey was staring at the door.

"Really — they'll wake everybody up! What do they think they're doing?"

Lyra was trying to hear what the voices were saying. They were drawing nearer —

"He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out —"

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS — SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — POTTER!"

"Severus — be reasonable — Harry has been locked up —"

BAM.

The door of the hospital wing burst open.

Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself! I have a patient with a severe concussion!"

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw —"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth.

"Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —"

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

"What's going on?" Lyra asked, dumbfounded at the whole thing. "Who escaped? It wasn't Pettigrew, was it?"

Professor Snape wheeled around and glared furiously at her.

"Poor dear," Minister Fudge said. "Must be a bit confused with that injury and all-"

"She's not confused," Snape snapped. "This girl has been helping Black break into the castle!"

Fudge looked shocked. "Snape! That kind of accusation - with no proof-"

Lyra climbed off her bed, and unsteadily walked towards her Godfather. Madam Pomfrey looked ready to order her back in bed, but restrained herself.

"Why are you doing this?" Lyra demanded softly, standing in front of the deranged-looking professor. "You're my godfather! I thought you cared about me!"

A flicker of emotion passed over Snape's face before he sneered cruelly at her.

"Care about you?" he said slowly, his words laced with cruel sarcasm. "What makes you think I ever felt _anything_ for you? You're the Dark Lord's daughter, after all. Who in their right mind would ever care about _you_?"

Several things happened at once.

Lyra felt her knees give out, and crumpled to the ground. Pain shot through her skull, but she was too numb to anything more than whimper pathetically.

Fudge let out a small, high-pitched squeak, and looked ready to faint.

Madam Pomfrey jumped in shock.

Dumbledore looked particularly dangerous and glared fiercely at Snape, who was still sneering unpleasantly at Lyra.

"Severus!" Dumbledore barked.

Snape ignored him, and with a swirl of his robes, marched towards the door of the Hospital Wing.

"You're wrong," Harry said in a quiet, but confident tone. Snape stopped in his tracks, and faced Harry.

"_I_ love Lyra," Harry continued. "I love her no matter who her father is, and so do Ron and Hermione."

"Then you're fools, the lot of you," Snape snapped.

"No, you're a fool!" Harry shouted angrily.

"You insolent, little-"

"You were lucky to be her godfather!" Harry shouted over him. "Lyra's the most brave and compassionate person I know! And if you can't see that, then - then I feel sorry for you!"

Snape stood there, seething, before he whirled around and stormed out of the ward.

Lyra felt tears streaming down her face. She couldn't believe Harry defended her like that. It made her heart swell, even though it was shattering at the same time. She couldn't believe her godfather had just betrayed her like that. She had trusted Professor Snape, but now it seems it had all been a lie. He had never cared about her at all.

There was a moment of utter silence before Fudge seemed to regain his composure.

"Now see here, Dumbledore," he puffed, "keeping something like this a secret - He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named having a daughter - utter madness -"

"You will find, Cornelius, that Mr. Potter's - er - passionate assessment of Miss Black was quite accurate. From what I have observed, she is a kind and loyal friend. She is certainly not a threat to anyone. Obviously, her identity had to remain a secret for her safety, and I expect it to remain that way," Dumbledore stated calmly, but firmly.

"I - well, yes, of course - but -" Fudge spluttered.

"If you will be so obliged to come to my office, Cornelius, we can further discuss this matter. These students need to rest."

Fudge, still looking a little dumbstruck, followed Dumbledore out of the infirmary.

Lyra was sobbing in a crumpled heap in the middle of the floor, and her head felt like it was splitting open. Harry knelt down beside her, and gently took her in his arms. She cried softly as he carried her over to a bed. He softly put her down, and sat down on the edge of the bed. She curled up beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to come out of her shocked daze, and bustled to a medicine cabinet to fetch more potions. She gave Lyra a calming drought and checked on Ron's leg, muttering to herself the whole time. Finally, she headed back to her office and shut the door rather sharply.

Hermione looked sadly at Lyra. "What he said to you was awful, Lyra. And completely untrue. We all love you, you know that, right?"

Lyra began to nod, but winced when it hurt. "Y-Yes," she said.

After a few moments, there was a low moan from the other end of the ward. Ron had woken up. They could see him sitting up, rubbing his head, looking around.

"What — what happened?" he groaned. "Harry? Why are we in here? Where's Sirius? Where's Lupin? What's going on?"

"Oh," Lyra said, realizing she had no idea what had happened. "What _is_ going on?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and started to explain. They told Ron and Lyra about Pettigrew escaping and the Dementors. Lyra's head hurt even more when Hermione started explaining about the Time-Turner.

By the end, they were all exhausted. Lyra made room for Harry beside her on the bed. She curled up beside him, and tried to forget everything that had happened and focused on his comforting presence. He kissed her lips softly and within seconds, she was asleep.

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were allowed to leave the Hospital Wing at noon the next day, but Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Lyra longer due to her severe concussion. Harry stayed with her and they passed the time talking about the events of the previous night and wondering where Sirius and Buckbeak were now.

Madam Pomfrey finally released Lyra that afternoon with strict instructions to refrain from any strenuous activity.

"Also, the Headmaster wants to see you," Madam Pomfrey said distractedly. "He said to go immediately to his office after you're released."

Lyra slowly made her way to the entrance to Dumbledore's office. She was ready to start guessing the candy-themed password when the gargoyle immediately leapt out of the way and motioned for her to go up.

Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, looking unusually solemn.

"You wished to see me, Professor?" Lyra said.

Dumbledore motioned for her to sit down across from him. He peered at her over his half-moon spectacles, and began speaking without preamble.

"The minister has agreed to keep your identity a secret. I spoke with Madam Pomfrey this morning, and she will do the same."

"That's good," Lyra said quietly.

Dumbledore sighed before continuing, "Severus has given up guardianship over you. I tried to dissuade him, but he refused to listen to reason," Dumbledore paused and looked at her sadly. "I am very sorry, Lyra...but we need to discuss your living arrangements for this summer."

Lyra paled. "I d-don't want to go b-back to the orphanage."

"I know...I wish there was another option-"

"Can't I live with Sirius?" she asked hopefully.

"I have no idea where he is, and since the whole world believes he's an escaped convict, I'm afraid that's not an option."

Lyra sighed. "Isn't there anywhere else I could go?" she asked desperately.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said slowly. "You have an aunt, Andromeda. She was disowned by her parents when she married a muggleborn."

"I think Sirius mentioned her!" Lyra said excitedly.

"She did not get along well with your mother, so it might take some time for me to convince her to take you in. In the meantime, I'm afraid you have to return to St. Anne's. I'm sorry, Lyra," he said with a note of finality.

Lyra blinked back more tears, and hastily stood up.

"Fine," she snapped, before running out of the office. She raced down the spiral staircase, past the gargoyle. She almost ran into Harry, who was waiting at the bottom. He caught her, and pulled her into a gentle embrace.

"S-sorry," she muttered.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I guess that didn't go too well?"

She shook her head. Harry didn't press her for details. He simply led her outside, and they had a stroll around the lake. Lyra was able to put Snape and Pettigrew out of her mind for a while.

Eventually, they came across Hagrid, who was deliriously happy about Buckbeak's escape. Then, he told them that Professor Lupin had resigned after Snape told everyone about his condition. Lyra felt a fresh flare of anger at Snape, while Harry went off to find Lupin.

* * *

The last week of term went by quickly. Exam results came out, and Lyra was happy to see that she had passed every subject. Harry mentioned his suspicions that Dumbledore might have stepped in to stop Snape failing them on purpose.

Snape's behavior toward Lyra over the past week had been quite alarming. Lyra was shocked at how quickly he changed from a caring Godfather to an angry man out for revenge. Lyra wasn't used to Snape glaring at her and treating her like he always treated Harry. She felt horrible that she had ever defended Snape whenever Harry and Ron went of on their tirades against him. Now she could see that it was all true.

Lyra managed to track Brandon down to tell him she would be returning to the orphanage.

"Really?" he said, excitedly. "That's grea- uh - I mean, I'm so sorry, Ly!"

He tried to look sorry for her, but Lyra wasn't convinced. She was glad that she could at least look forward to spending more time with him. They could work on their summer homework together and she could take him to Diagon Alley whenever he wanted.

On the Hogwarts Express the next day, Ron gave Harry and Lyra another reason to cheer up.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Lyra? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

"Yeah..." Harry said, excited. "I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come...especially after what I did to Aunt Marge..."

Lyra laughed. "That would be great, Ron! Er - do you think Brandon could come too? It's just that he loves Quidditch, and I don't want to leave him behind..."

Ron looked a little uncomfortable, "I don't know how many tickets Dad can get..." he said uncertainly.

"I'll buy our tickets, of course," Lyra said quickly.

Ron looked relieved. "Then I'm sure they won't mind!"

Feeling considerably more cheerful, they played several games of Exploding Snap before the lunch cart arrived.

Later in the afternoon, an excitable little owl brought a letter from Sirius. Harry read it out loud, and Lyra smiled when Ron got to keep the little owl. The train quickly arrived at King's Cross station, and the four friends stepped through the barrier of Platform nine and three quarters.

Mrs. Weasley gave all of them hugs in greeting.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled, as the Weasleys left the station.

Harry and Lyra bid goodbye to Hermione, and found a more secluded spot in the station.

Lyra closed the space between them, and brought her lips to his.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too, Lyra," Harry replied.

Lyra gazed up into his beautiful emerald eyes, and she felt like she could look into them forever. He brushed a strand of her hair back, and kissed her once more.

"BOY!" an irritated voice yelled. "We haven't got all day!"

Harry grimaced. "My uncle..." he muttered.

Lyra saw the fat, angry man, and gave Harry a pitying look.

"Well, at least we have the World Cup to look forward to!" she said brightly.

Harry smiled. "I can't wait! See you later, Lyra!" he called, before following his uncle out of the station.

Lyra sighed. She already missed him.

"Ready to go, Ly?" Brandon called form over near the barrier.

She quietly followed him out of the station while he chattered happily about school.

"...and I think I want to try-out for Quidditch next year, even though I don't have a chance of making it. Just for the experience, you know?"

Lyra smiled fondly at him. "Well, I think you have a great chance at making the team!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! And I have more good news for you!"

Brandon looked up eagerly.

"How would like to go see the best teams in the world at the Quidditch World Cup?"

Brandon's mouth fell open. He looked like Christmas had come early.

"Are you serious?" he screamed. Lyra laughed and nodded. "Yes! Yes! Yes! You're the best, Ly!"

Lyra smiled and exited the station with Brandon skipping merrily beside her. She found an empty side street, and held out her wand to summon the Knight Bus. Even though Lyra had to return to St. Anne's orphanage for most of the summer, she knew that soon enough she would be boarding the Hogwarts Express with her friends again. The thought made the grim prospect of two whole months under the same roof as Mrs. Winters a _little_ more bearable.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews! I really appreciate them! I grouped second and third year together because they were both pretty short, but fourth year will be separate. I can't decide on a title, so feel free to leave any suggestions :) Thanks for reading!**

**Fourth Year is up. It's titled "Equinox".**


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